


The Silent Summer

by libbywednesday



Category: South Park
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Accidental friendship, Aged-Up Character(s), All At Once, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Camping, Coming of Age, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Forced Bonding, Hand Jobs, I'm Winging It At This Point, It's Actually Just Gay, Kyman - Freeform, M/M, Really Really Gay, Sexting, Summer Romance, all three, finding yourself, im sorry there are so many tags i keep forgetting to add things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbywednesday/pseuds/libbywednesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle Broflovski is convinced this is going to be the worst summer ever. It's his last summer in South Park before he goes off to college and none of his friends are going to be around to share it with him. Except one. And it doesn't really go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kyle was sure this was going to be the worst summer ever. In the fall he would be starting college at Carnegie Mellon University in Pennsylvania and he had looked forward to spending one last summer with his friends before they went their separate ways for a while. Unfortunately, none of them were going to be there.

Stan, who was staying in Colorado to study environmental sciences, was spending his summer as a camp counselor in North Park. “It'll look good for school in the fall,” he had said and Kyle reluctantly had to agree.

Kenny, who hadn't at all decided what he was going to do with his life, wasn't going to be around either. He had taken a temp job in Denver for a few months and would be staying in a crummy motel in the city. It didn't sound at all pleasant but no one could blame him for wanting to get out of his house as soon as possible.

Butters was staying with relatives, Craig had already left to study in Peru, Clyde was on vacation, Jimmy was touring as a motivational speaker, Token was moving, literally everyone was gone for the last summer in South Park.

Except for Eric Fucking Cartman.

Instead of visiting his family in Nebraska with his mother, he had elected to stay in South Park and Kyle was sure it was just to fuck with him, it almost certainly was, and Kyle wasn't having any of it.

And that was why Kyle was holed up in his room on a beautiful June day, mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr instead of enjoying himself outside like he wanted to. Sure, he was bored out of his mind, but at least he had convinced himself that this was better than letting Cartman think that he had won. He wasn't sure what he wasn't letting Cartman win but he was not going to lose.

His phone buzzed and he was disappointed when the message wasn't from Kenny or Stan. Instead, it was from Cartman.

_'dude lets do something im bored'_

Kyle made a face. _'No,'_ he texted back.

Almost immediately Cartman replied. _'jesus who got your little jew panties in a bunch'_

_'My panties aren't in a bunch, I just don't want to hang out.'_

_'come on jew im not asking you to suck my dick im just asking you to play cod or something'_ said Cartman.

Kyle huffed and tossed his phone onto the bed. He wasn't in the mood for this. He never was. His phone vibrated three or four more times but he didn't look. Instead, he typed up an extremely vague Tumblr post about people who couldn't take a hint but didn't post it. Cartman didn't even have a Tumblr as far as he knew. He always called it “That Hippie Trash Site” so Kyle didn't figure he'd made an account, never mind followed him.

Instead, he decided to work on his summer reading for school. He plugged his phone into his charger and reclined on his bed with a worn, paperback copy of King Lear and read until he fell asleep with the book in his hands.  
He woke, disoriented and sweat soaked, in the middle of the night and reached for his phone for the time. He was greeted by a dozen or so messages from Cartman and one text from Stan. He skipped Cartman's messages and opened Stan's.

_'How's hanging out with Cartman? ;-)'_

Kyle aggressively rolled his eyes. He had been complaining to both Stan and Kenny about being stuck in South Park with Cartman but neither of them seemed to care much.

“He's not that bad anymore,” Stan had said before leaving.

“Maybe not to you,” Kyle retorted, “He never fucks with you.”

Stan had shrugged and Kyle had frowned. It was true that Cartman had always singled him out more than anyone else for his taunting. Even now that they were older and Cartman had mellowed out significantly, he still ripped on Kyle like there was no tomorrow. Not as much as he used to, but it was still annoying.

 _'I wouldn't know'_ he texted Stan.

He had just hit send when he was startled by a clattering against his window. He nearly pissed himself when he looked up to see Cartman grinning against the glass. He clutched his chest out of sheer astonishment and Cartman laughed.

“Jew, open the fucking window!” he shouted from outside.

Heart racing a thousand miles per hour, Kyle raised the window. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he hissed in a harsh whisper.

“Didn't you get my texts?”

“Your texts? Wha- I-” Kyle stammered and then looked down at his phone.

_5:36 pm_

_'so is that a yes or what'_

_5:43 pm_

_'are you seriously ignoring me'_

_5:47 pm_

_'wow that s mature'_

_6:02 pm_

_'whatre you even gonna do? do your college reading and go to sleep?'_

_6:45 pm_

_'thats fuckin weak dude'_

_7:29 pm_

_'im offended'_

_8:52 pm_

_'text me back you jew rat piece of shit fucker im so fucking borED'_

_9:18 pm_

_'kyel pls'_

_9:44 pm_

_'ok so heres what im gona do'_

_9:45 pm_

_'im gonna come to your house'_

_9:51 pm_

_'and were gonna have fucking fun you douche'_

_10:32 pm_

_'stop jerkin it to the fuckin dictionary and do something with your life'_

_11:11 pm_

_'omw motherfucker'_

 

Kyle was incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? It's the middle of the fucking night, Fatass! Do you have any fucking concept of what is and isn't appropriate!”

Cartman shrugged. “Okay, but you can't say I didn't give you any warning.”

“Just get in here before you fall and kill yourself in my backyard, you asshole,” Kyle sighed. “And be quiet!”

Cartman squeezed through the window and into Kyle's darkened room. “Okay, so what are we gonna do?”

“You're gonna go the fuck home, that's what you're gonna do!”

“Okay but consider this: No,” Cartman said matter-of-factually.

“What do you mean no!”

“You're gonna fucking live a little, Kyle,” Cartman continued. “Let's go get in trouble like we used to.” He grinned mischievously, his odd eyes glistening in the moonlight that filtered through the curtains.

Kyle slammed the window shut. “In case you haven't realized, Cartman, I'm going to a really fucking good school in a couple of months and I don't wanna get kicked out before the semester even starts because I get caught doing God knows what, with you!” he said, sharply.

“It'll be fiiiiine,” said Cartman. “We won't get in _trouble_ trouble. Just like... Regular trouble.”

“Have you ever made sense in your life?”

“No, not really. But just come over to my house. My mom stocked the place to the brim with alcohol before she left.”

Kyle's mouth fell open. “Why would she leave you alone with a house full of alcohol?”

“Because she's a cool mom, unlike the bitch that spawned you.”

Kyle punched him in the arm, not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough for it to hurt. “Dude, don't call my mom a bitch!”

Cartman leaned back against Kyle's desk, the wood creaking under him. “Do you wanna come over or are you gonna spend your last summer in this shithole town reading-” he glanced at the book sitting on the nightstand “-King fucking Lear.”

Kyle chewed over that thought for a moment. Cartman did have a point. It wasn't the best point, nor was it articulated very well, but it was a point he had tried not to consider until now. “My parents won't know where I went,” he said, finally.

“Then, Jesus Christ, write them a fucking note,” Cartman huffed. “You're eighteen fucking years old, they can't tell you what to do anymore.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “You try telling them that.”

“I will, don't test me, Kyle. I'll go wake them up right now and tell them that they don't own you.”

“Don't actually do that,” said Kyle, fully aware that this was something that Cartman had the full intention of doing. “Just...” he grabbed a pen and paper pad off his desk and scrawled a quick note, then took his hat from its hanging spot on his bedpost and slipped it on. “Fine, let's go.”

Cartman jumped up, giddily. “Fucking finally!”

Kyle held a finger to his lips as he softly shut the door behind them and silently slunk down the stairs. Cartman slid past him, noiselessly. Kyle had forgotten how quiet Cartman could be when he was trying. Once out on the sidewalk, however, he wouldn't shut up.

“Why are you so excited to hang out with me anyhow?” asked Kyle as they walked.

“Because,” said Cartman, “you're the only person left in this town who's remotely cool, and I use the term lightly. And I don't wanna spend my summer doing nothing like a huge nerd. Plus I hate drinking alone.”

“Dude, I shouldn't drink. And, neither should you. We both only have one kidney.”

“Yeah, you have mine. Give it back.”

“Hey, maybe if you ate better and took care of yourself-”

“Hey, maybe you should shut the fuck up.”

Kyle huffed and knocked into Cartman with his shoulder. “I hate you, Fatass.”

Cartman looked down at him and smirked and Kyle wondered to himself _when on earth Cartman got so tall._ “You don't hate me,” he said. “Why would you hang out with someone you hate?”

“I was trying to avoid you since graduation,” Kyle snarked.

“Weak. And yet, here we are. Admit it, Kyle. You looooove me,” Cartman teased, cupping his face in his hands and batting his eyelashes.

“I do _not!”_

“Kyle, don't make me sing to you again.”

“Cartman, don't make me punch you in the throat again.”

“You've never punched me in the throat before and I'll take that as a sign that you really, truly care about me,” said Cartman.

Kyle made a fist and held it up threateningly. “We can change that,” he growled. He pretended like he was going to throw a punch but Cartman didn't flinch. He just stood there, smiling, driving Kyle out of his mind.

“Why didn't you want to hang out with me anyhow?” asked Cartman, continuing to stroll down the street. Kyle turned and jogged briefly to catch up with him.

“Because you're an asshole,” snapped Kyle.

“Not always,” said Cartman, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. “I can be nice sometimes.”

“Maybe when you want to be,” Kyle said, “but you never want to be. Being a dick is too much fun for you. Isn't it?”

“Please,” Cartman scoffed. “You're just as much of a dick as I am.”

“That is a blatant lie, Cartman!”

“It's true. You're a prick, Kyle. You're no better than me.”

Kyle studied Cartman's face, searching for some sign that he was joking, and, when he didn't find it, he turned abruptly. “Screw you, Cartman. I'm going home.”

“See?” said Cartman, a bit too loudly for the middle of the night. “That's something I would say! You can't even handle somebody calling you out for once!”

Kyle turned back, quickly, stomping into Cartman's personal space, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. “You aren't 'calling me out,' you're trying to instigate me! You're a racist and an antisemitic dickbag and I am _not_ like you!”

Cartman made a disgusted noise in his throat. “In your lifetime, you've probably made just as many offensive jokes as I have!”

“There's a difference between joking and actually being a bigot! You're not just trying to be funny, you actually mean those things!”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Oh, _wow,_ Kyle, I didn't realize you were a mind reader who can tell what people do and don't mean,” he snarled.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, the darkness casting long shadows down his face. “You're trying to tell me you _don't_ hate Jews? Or black people? Or Muslims? And you're _just_ trying to be funny (and failing miserably) when you say those horrible things?”

“I don't hate anybody. Except maybe hippies and homeless people. But I mean, let's be real.”

Kyle waited a moment for Cartman to continue and, when he didn't he tilted his head slightly. “Okay, I honestly can't tell if you're being serious or not right now,” he said.

“Super seriously.”

“See, I still can't tell.”

Cartman clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times as he walked, turning up his own driveway. “You can think what you want about me, I guess. Just like... Don't assume people are the same as they were when they were kids, alright?”

Kyle sputtered, wordlessly as Cartman unlocked his front door. He followed him into his house and, inside, stared at him, blankly for what seemed an eternity. “You're kidding, right?” he said after a long time.

Cartman turned on his Xbox and flopped down on the couch. “I'm just saying,” he said, “things are different now, alright? We used to like... do shit. Now we don't do anything.”

Warily, Kyle took the seat next to him. “This is earth-shattering and I'm honestly so confused right now but... Cartman, are you depressed?”

Cartman let out a loud laugh. “We're not having this conversation, Kyle. You were hating my guts three seconds ago and now you're worried about my state of mind?” He smirked. “It's cool, alright?”

Kyle sighed. “Alright. We're cool?” He wasn't sure what Cartman had been talking about but he felt a lot more at ease as he sat on Cartman's couch as he started up a game of Grand Theft Auto. It felt good. It felt like old times. He thought maybe he was wrong and this summer would be different.

He was right.

It would only continue to get worse.

  


  


  


 


	2. Chapter 2

Kyle woke up, arms folded over one another, leaning on the arm of Cartman's couch. Cartman was on the other end, sprawled out, snoring like a log, Xbox controller still in his hand. He had one leg draped over Kyle's lap, the other hanging off the couch in an awkward position. On the floor was a spilled can of cheap beer.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Kyle sat up and glanced down at his phone. It was ten AM but he was still exhausted. He had been up until dawn bullshitting and playing video games with Cartman. It had been a good time, surprisingly. He had forgotten that, sometimes, once in a blue moon, he and Cartman could get along and, after their argument on the short walk from house to house, Cartman had been as amicable as he could possibly be. It felt good. They felt like friends.

He wiggled his way out from underneath Cartman's right leg and got up, picking up the stray beer cans from the night before. Kyle didn't really like beer but Cartman had said he was saving the good liquor for a special occasion. He assumed he had meant his birthday which was coming up soon, in less than a month.

He wasn't sure if he was going to get him a birthday present or not. On one hand, Cartman _had_ gotten him a gift for his birthday back in May. Sure, it was a chess set that Cartman had only bought because he thought it was the nerdiest thing out there, granted, Kyle actually _did_ like chess. And, sure, it was gifted to him in an old KFC bucket and, _SURE,_ it was accompanied by a card that only read “BIRTH” and was addressed to “Jew” but you know what? It was something at least.

On the other hand, he wasn't sure how Cartman's behavior was going to keep up for the rest of the month. One thing he was sure of was that, if Cartman was acting like a douche when his birthday came around, he would _not_ be wasting his money on an ill-deserved gift.

But, he would leave that up to time to tell.

Now, he tossed the empty beer cans in the trash and started a pot of coffee. He found himself impulsively tidying up the kitchen as he waited for the coffee to brew and had to stop himself because he knew Cartman would make a joke out of it.

Instead, he walked back out to the living room and snapped a photo on his phone of Cartman drooling all over himself as he slept on the couch and sent it to Stan with the caption: _'A truly unique specimen.'_

Stan replied after only a few moments. _'Lol. What happened to you not hanging out with him over break?'_

 _'I got bored,'_ Kyle replied and waited a minute before sending _'Don't you have some campers to counsel or something?'_

_'I'm on a supply run since SOMEONE used all the toilet paper to TP the forest ranger's cabin last night'_

Kyle had to laugh. The North Park campsite was notorious for pranksters and Stan had a plethora of stories like this whenever he worked there. He could only wonder why he kept going back.

The coffeepot beeped in the kitchen and Kyle kicked Cartman lightly in the leg. “Coffee's ready, Fatass. Get up.”

Cartman grumbled, sleepily, rolling over onto his side, hiding his face in the couch cushions. Kyle nudged him again and was greeted by a “But _Kyle_ it's _early.”_

“It's like ten-thirty!”

“That's _so early!”_ Cartman cried, peeking up at him through one tired eye. “I never, _ever,_ get up before noon in the summer. Seriously. Ever.”

“Well, you are today. C'mon. I made coffee,” Kyle replied, sitting, heavily, upon Cartman's twisted legs.

Cartman oofed and propped himself up on his elbows, still holding one eye closed, hiding it from the late morning light. “I don't even _like_ coffee, Jew!”

Kyle frowned. “Do you really not like it?”

“No,” said Cartman, with a sleepy smirk, knocking Kyle off of him and sitting up to rub his eyes. “I don't trust people who don't drink coffee.”

Kyle shrugged. “I guess it's not for everyone.”

“It's my lifeblood.”

“Come on, Cartman, don't be a Tweek about it,” said Kyle, rolling his eyes.

Cartman forced himself to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee into the biggest mug he had and lumping in spoonfuls of sugar. After a long sip he proclaimed “We need to go grocery shopping.”

“I don't live here, Fatass. Why do you think I would wanna go grocery shopping with you?” Kyle said, furrowing his brow, stirring cream into his coffee.

Leaning on the counter, Cartman let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Because,” he said, “you love me and you don't want me to be lonely.”

Kyle scoffed. “I don't love you; I don't even like you!”

“Come on, Jew, don't make me go by myself! I'll starve.”

“Why did your mom leave you with plenty of alcohol but no food?”

Cartman shrugged. “She forgot, I guess.”

Kyle looked a little worried and then sighed, reluctantly. “Fine. But only because you have no money management skills and you need to buy food that _isn't_ gonna kill you.”

Cartman grinned into his coffee cup and bounced on the soles of his feet, making a pleasant little noise.

“I have to go home first,” said Kyle, downing the rest of his drink, steadily. He wondered if his parents had noticed he wasn't there. He hadn't received any phone calls from his mother so, either way, he didn't think he was in trouble. That was a first. Usually, he got scolded when he did even the smallest thing without consulting his parents first. He hoped maybe they were going to stop sheltering him and let him grow up, but he also knew that would probably never happen.

It was a Tuesday, so, when Kyle got home, he was greeted by an empty house, aside from his younger brother, Ike, who was silently reading in the living room. He took his shoes off at the door and quietly tramped up the stairs, immediately jumping into the shower.

The water felt good and warm and it woke him up almost as much as the caffeine pumping through his veins.

When he got out and toweled himself off, he briefly considered blow drying his hair but decided against it because he was just going _grocery shopping_ with _Cartman._

He took into account the note, which sat, undisturbed, on his desk, as he dressed in a clean, white t-shirt and olive jeans. His parents must have assumed he was just sleeping when they left for work. Considering it was now irrelevant, he crumpled it up and shot it into the wastepaper basket next to his desk.

His phone buzzed. It was Cartman, obviously.

_'hurry kahl im wasting away'_

Kyle snickered. _'Oh please. You're fine.'_

_'kyle pls dont let me starve 2 death'_

_'You still have some food, Cartman, I was literally just at your house.'_

_'kyel im lonely come over now pls'_

Kyle rolled his eyes and shoved his phone into his pocket. He wondered how many different ways Cartman could manage to spell his name in one conversation.

He threw his hat on over his still-slightly-wet hair although he knew that wasn't a good idea and he would pay for it with extra springy hair later but he didn't really care. He slung his messenger bag around his shoulders and started the very short walk two houses over to Cartman's.

When he arrived, Cartman was sitting on the steps of his house, looking very bored. He glanced up as Kyle approached and smirked. “Finally!”

Kyle crossed his arms and shifted his weight on his feet in front of him. “Well, I'm here. Let's go. Did your mom leave you money?”

Cartman scoffed. “Yeah, but I have my own money, Jew.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow speculatively. “How? You don't even have a job.”

Cartman patted his own chest reassuringly. “Kyle, Kyle, Kyle,” he tsked, “So naive, so young. When will you learn how the world works?” He raised his eyebrows and looked up at him, one eye honey brown, the other icy blue, both glinting.

Kyle bit his tongue. “What?” he said, flatly.

Cartman reached up and made grabby hands. “Help me up,” he whined.

Reluctantly, Kyle took his hand and hoisted him to his feet.

“Thanks, Jew. Now,” Cartman dusted himself off and dug around in his pants pocket, producing a folded piece of paper, “I made a shopping list.”

“Really? That's adult of you.” He snatched the list from Cartman's hand and his face fell. “Cartman, this is all garbage!”

“Nuh uh, all of that stuff is part of my balanced diet.”

“You don't need fucking sixteen bags of Cool Ranch Doritos, Fatass!”

“You're right, I need eighteen. Can't you read?”

“How are you _ever_ gonna live on your own, Cartman? You're going to literally eat shit and die!” shouted Kyle. “You're not gonna last three days by yourself! Do you even know how to do laundry?”

Cartman shrugged. “No, but, that's not really your problem, is it?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Cartman? Do I look like the kind of person who's just gonna sit back and let you kill yourself?” Kyle yelled, his face flushing with frustration.

Cartman batted his eyelashes. “Awww, Kyle, you really do care,” he mocked.

Kyle took a moment to compose himself. “Alright, Fatass, here's the deal.” He planted his hands on his hips, firmly. “If I'm gonna be stuck with you for the entire summer I'm gonna use this time to do something useful and teach you how to grow the fuck up,” he announced.

Cartman stuck his tongue out between his teeth. “Alright, sounds good,” he said, grinning.

“Why are you fucking smiling?”

“I dunno, you're just funny.”

Kyle huffed, annoyed.

“C'mon,” said Cartman, walking past him and getting into the driver's side of the beat-up pickup truck his mother had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday.

Begrudgingly, Kyle climbed in the passenger's side.

The supermarket wasn't far, nor was it very busy when they arrived. In the car, Kyle made an entirely new shopping list for Cartman. One that wasn't entirely junk food.

Kyle wasn't sure why but things felt... strange. He liked grocery shopping and grocery shopping with his friends but with Cartman beside him, looking unusually docile as he pushed the cart through the produce section the whole thing just seemed oddly domestic. And, domesticity wasn't something he knew very well. Not in South Park. Not with Cartman. It made him uneasy. But it was also kind of nice. Which _also_ made him feel even more uneasy.

As he was internally debating this with himself, he noticed Cartman watching him with a strange look. Kyle furrowed his eyebrows right back at him. “What?”

Cartman shrugged and looked away. “Nothin'. You just seemed spaced out.” He glanced back at him out of the corner of his eye. “You alright?”

“Of course I'm alright,” Kyle snapped, “Just pick out some fucking plums.”

Cartman made an annoyed sound. “Okay, _mom,”_ he grumbled. “I wouldn't have had you come along if I knew you were gonna have a giant stick up your ass the whole time.”

“I'm here against my will.”

“Shut up, you're perfectly willing. You're just being a big Jew about it.”

Kyle glared up at him, still seething about the massive height difference that seemed to have suddenly sprouted over the last few months.

Cartman seemed to have noticed it too because he cracked a grin. “Not only are you a _Jew_ but you're a _short_ Jew too, huh, Kahl?”

“I'm five nine! You're just fucking _massive!_ ”

“I was wondering when you were going to say something about that,” said Cartman, picking out a box of pasta from the shelf. “And, in case you wanted to know, I'm six two now.”

“Jesus,” Kyle said under his breath. “You're taller than Stan now too, huh?”

“Yup. I've got about three inches on the hippie,” Cartman beamed. “And Kenny's always been a pipsqueak. Even _you're_ taller than him.”

“I'm taller than lots of people,” grumbled Kyle, pushing the cart ahead a little bit.

Cartman tried very hard not to laugh at Kyle's dissatisfaction but was unsuccessful. “Well, I mean, your hair is so big it'd probably give you a couple extra inches,” he added.

Kyle sucked in a long breath through his nose and let it out slowly. “If I kill you in the middle of this grocery store let it be known that you deserved every bit of it.”

Cartman plopped a big hand down on top of Kyle's head. “You ever take your hat off anymore?” he asked, completely changing the subject.

“No,” said Kyle. “I prefer not to unless I'm really comfortable.”

“Hmm,” said Cartman. “Okay.”

Once again, Kyle was thrown off by the level of complacency Cartman was showing. Maybe Stan was right. Maybe Cartman was right. Maybe things really had changed. He couldn't quite wrap his head around that but, even so, he knew something was different. He just wasn't sure what yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the nice comments after I posted the first chapter and for the kudos! I was debating on putting this story on hiatus or not until I saw that and now I'm definitely continuing it, slowly but surely! The kind words really motivated me to finish this chapter today! I'm hoping to update once a week or every other week if I'm busy with work! I'm planning to have the story move forward more in the next chapter! Thanks again! -Libby


	3. Chapter 3

Kyle wasn't sure why he had found himself sitting on Cartman's living room sofa again. Lately, he had been spending almost every night there. It was weird but he thought, just maybe, that he and Cartman were friends. It made him feel funny inside, like he was waiting at the top of a roller coaster for the drop and he wasn't sure why. He wondered if it was just as weird for Cartman who, arguably, had been acting slightly off for the entire summer. Kyle felt confused and cautiously optimistic.

This particular day, Cartman was acting stranger than normal. He had been sitting on the end of the couch with a quizzical expression for at least fifteen minutes. He chewed on his bottom lip and rested his face in his hands, staring, blankly, at the floor.

“Dude, you okay?” Kyle asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Shut up. I'm thinking,” Cartman mumbled in reply. He turned his gaze to the ceiling and leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head. He breathed a long sigh.

“That's a first. About what?”

Cartman's eyes darted to him for a half second before closing them and pursing his lips tightly. He sat like that for what seemed an eternity before speaking again. “I have to tell you something and I don't know how to say it without sounding stupid,” he said, quietly.

Kyle's chest tightened with anxiety. That didn't sound good. “You don't have to worry about sounding stupid. You always sound stupid anyhow,” he chirped, in hopes of lightening the mood a little.

Cartman exhaled a laugh through his nose and sat up, propping his head up on his elbow, finally opening his eyes again. “Look, Jew,” he said, voice slightly hoarse, “this is like top secret shit.”

“Oh God,” Kyle groaned. “What did you do this time?”

“I didn't do anything!” cried Cartman. “Just promise whatever I tell you stays between you and me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Cartman was quiet again, like he lost the courage to continue on.

Kyle wrinkled his eyebrows a little. “Come on, dude, you're stressing me out. Just spit it out already.”

“I am _trying,_ Jew!” Cartman snapped. “I've been trying to figure out how to articulate this _bullshit_ all fucking night!”

“Then just say it really fast that way you won't ha-”

“I'm gay,” Cartman interrupted.

“Whoa! Shit! What?” Kyle yelped.

Cartman breathed a sigh of relief. “There we go. Finally out of the fucking closet,” he laughed nervously, trying to play it off to Kyle who sat there, slack-jawed and bug-eyed. “Dammit, just say something!” he cried out after a silence.

“Are you serious?” Kyle forced out.

“Of course I'm serious! Nobody lies about liking dick!”

“Did this just, like, come to you out of the blue or what?” asked Kyle.

Cartman shook his head. “Nah. I've been pretty certain about it since I was like... eight,” he chuckled weakly. “But, you know how it is. You can't act like you didn't see it coming though.”

“Why tell me now?”

“Well, I mean, you're leaving at the end of summer and everybody else is gone so I figured I should probably tell _somebody_ before they forget about me.” As much as he tried to hide it, there was hurt in his voice.

“I'm glad you did, though,” said Kyle. “It means a lot that you're being open with me, dude. I'm happy for you!”

Cartman snorted. “Don't make this into some sentimental thing, Jew. This is about penises, not trust and shit.”

“But I mean... It totally is though,” Kyle said with a smirk.

“Are you trying to insinuate that I trust you?”

“You literally just entrusted me with you're so-called 'top secret shit.' I'd say that's something.”

The edges of Cartman's mouth twitched as he tried to hide a smile. “Oh, bullshit. You're just convenient,” he said, voice cracking as he attempted to swallow his laughter. “I'm distancing myself from you. I can't be associated with _pussy lovers.”_ He paused. “Except lesbians. They're cool.”

“Uhh...” Kyle muttered, suddenly feeling put on the spot.

“Kyle, don't tell me you're a lesbian.”

“No... I mean... I'm just... Don't like... Assume that... I... I don't... Uh...” he stammered.

Cartman's face fell. “No fucking way.”

Kyle hid his face. “I didn't want to tell anyone until I got out of college,” he mumbled, muffled by his hands. He looked up, guiltily.

“Un-fucking-believable,” said Cartman. “Way to steal my fucking thunder, Jew! I ca _nnot_ believe you're a fucking homo. Ho-ly shit.”

“Don't fucking tell anyone!” Kyle said, leaning forward to point in Cartman's face.

“Brah, you think _I'm_ someone you have to worry about outing you? I'd be like 'Kyle's gay!' and you'd be like 'Okay but Cartman's also gay!' and everyone would be like 'How do you guys even know that? You must be gay together!' and think of what that'd mean for me. To think I'd be with a dirty Jew.”

“What!?” cried Kyle.

“I'm kidding, you fucker! You're not a dirty Jew, you're just a regular Jew. Maybe even a clean Jew.”

Kyle scoffed. “You're ridiculous, you know that?”

Cartman exhaled noisily. “So like... How did _you_ know?”

“That I like boys?”

“G _od,_ don't say it like _that!”_ cried Cartman. “I'm still getting used to the idea!”

“Fine, Fatass, I won't tell you, then!”

“No, you gotta tell me,” Cartman said, resting his elbows on his knees and sitting forward, eagerly.

“This is pretty personal, Cartman,” Kyle said, warily.

“Who the fuck cares? I need to know.”

“Why, dude?”

“Because I'm fucking curious!” Cartman hissed. “Like, I grew up thinking none of you assholes were like me and I couldn't relate to any of you and I need to make up for lost time!”

Kyle digested that. For the longest time he, also, had thought that almost none of his friends could understand what he had been going through. And, suddenly, he was aware that Cartman could. And Cartman did. And Cartman had been going through the exact same thing for nearly ten goddamn years. Kyle knew that now. And he could _finally_ talk to somebody about it.

“I...I think it was a couple years ago,” Kyle started. “When I figured it out, I mean. Don't laugh when I tell you this... But...” He took a deep breath and continued. “I was watching porn. Honestly, what adolescent boy _doesn't_ watch porn, though. Anyhow, I just kind of realized I was more attracted to the guy in this one video than the girl and that turned into me watching lesbian porn as kind of a test and I got zero pleasure out of it. Like it did nothing for me. And vaginas-” he paused to shudder “-do _not_ look even the slightest bit sexy to me. And I was kind of... grossed out? I mean, the girls were cute and all and they seemed to have real chemistry but no thank you.” He took another long pause to see if Cartman was still listening, and he was, with a hard-to-read expression. “And then I watched some solo guy stuff and gay porn and yep. That's, uh, that's what really gets me going... And... And that kind of changed everything. And, I mean, ever since then I've been a lot less confused about things and, at first, I really didn't want to put labels on myself but... I mean... Girls are nice and everything but... I don't want to have sex with them or date them or kiss them... I dunno... Am I making sense?”

Cartman raised his eyebrows as if he didn't expect Kyle to engage him more in conversation. He thought for a moment or two. “Yeah,” he said, finally. “That makes sense.”

“I thought I liked girls when I was a kid, though. It never even crossed my mind that I could have been gay...” mumbled Kyle, looking down at his feet.

“Heteronormativity,” Cartman said with conclusiveness and a head nod. “I thought I liked girls when I was little, I think. But that's only because my mom kept saying how cute it would be for me to have a 'little girlfriend'.”

Thinking, Kyle nodded. “That makes a lot of sense. My parents always told me I should be nice to girls because they wouldn't like me otherwise. And that someday I was going to find a nice Jewish girl to marry and stuff like that.”

Cartman shook his head. “Why do parents have to do that to their kids?”

“I don't know, man... Maybe then I would have known before I was like thirteen.”

Cartman shrugged. “Then they would have said you were 'too young to know you liked boys' when they've been telling you that you liked girls your whole life.”

“That's fucked up,” Kyle said but it came out as nothing more than a whisper.

Cartman laid back on the couch. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. “I guess it's kind of cool that you're gay too. I mean Butters is gay and Kenny fucks anything with a pulse but... I don't know. It's nice. And it's kind of relieving to be able to talk about it, you know? The only other person I've ever talked about this stuff with is my therapist.”

“You see a therapist?”

“Used to. Where do you think I was every Thursday afternoon for the last eight years. Come on, Kyle. Use that Jew brain of yours!”

“Oh,” said Kyle. “Why'd you see a therapist?”

Cartman let out a loud laugh. “Because I'm seriously messed up. But, you know, with meds and shit... I dunno. I'm not as bad now...” He looked down, almost shamefully. “It made me feel good to talk about stuff and have somebody listen and not judge me.” He swallowed hard. “Shit, dude, I don't wanna tell you my whole life story right now.”

“I was there for your whole life story,” said Kyle. “Just not for the behind-the-scenes shit.”

Cartman chuckled softly. “Yeah,” he said, “you were.”

Sometimes, touching Cartman was like poking a bear with a stick but, regardless, Kyle found himself cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him as much as he could.

Cartman flinched, slightly, taking a sharp breath in, but quickly relaxed, flicking his eyes to meet Kyle's sympathetic glance. “Someday, if you wanna get into all that shit, we can talk about it but not now.” He threw himself, dramatically, over the arm of the couch. “I'm fucking exhausted.”

“I should go, then,” Kyle said, getting to his feet.

“Wait,” Cartman said, suddenly. “Can I go to your house tonight?”

This was exceptionally odd. Cartman never wanted to spend time at Kyle's house unless his parents weren't around. But, Kyle figured it must be lonely to be in his house all by himself for the entire summer, even if he wouldn't admit it.

“Yeah, if you want to, you can. I even think I have an air mattress in my closet so neither of us have to sleep on the floor.”

“You know what else is in the closet?” Cartman asked with a bright grin.

“...What?”

“Not youuuuuuuuu!” he singsonged with a laugh.

Kyle rolled his eyes but smiled just the same. “Yeah, not you either, asshole.”

“Am I really the only person that knows you like it in the butt?” Cartman asked, heading for the stairs, presumably to get things from his room.

“Yes, but I'm not gay just because of butt stuff, you moron,” Kyle jeered. “It's an emotional experience or something.”

“What is?”

“Love, I guess!”

Cartman shook his head. “Oh _god._ Now we're talking about _love.”_

“Shut up, Cartman! Are _you_ only into guys for their dicks?”

“Hmm. No,” said Cartman. “I guess not. But I don't do romance.”

“Why not?” asked Kyle, legitimately curious. He was kind of enjoying all the opening up Cartman had been doing lately. It was making him wonder if he should major in psychology in college instead of finance like he had planned.

“Because,” Cartman said as he climbed the stairs, “love never ever _ever_ works out. Seriously ever.”

“How do you know that?”

“Poor, sweet, naive, little Jew,” Cartman said, turning around at the top of the stairs to pat Kyle on the head. “Someday you'll learn.”

“Have you ever even been in love?” Kyle asked, frowning and raising an eyebrow.

Cartman shrugged. “No. But it doesn't matter. All that sappy stuff is for morons like Marsh anyways!”

Kyle rolled his eyes again, twice as hard. “Maybe you just can't get any 'cuz you're a prick.”

“Please, Kyle,” said Cartman, flashing a toothy grin, “I'm quite the catch.”

Kyle tried to find a comeback but couldn't and just scoffed instead, leaning in the doorway as Cartman grabbed a couple of things from his room.

He noticed Cartman's pillbox for the first time. He hadn't been lying when he mentioned medication. He was definitely on several different doses. He seemed to be keeping up with it well and kept the pills neat and in weekly organizers.

As he waited, Kyle got a text from Kenny, which was a surprise.

_'i need a favor'_

Kyle was a little suspicious and really, really hoped Kenny hadn't gotten into trouble again. But, before he could text back, another message came through.

_'cartmans bday is cummin up and i told him id make sure it was a good 1 but im not gon to b able 2 make it so could u make his day or smthn pls nd thnk u xoxoxo ;)'_

Kyle had to smile a little at the message. It was really sweet of Kenny to care so much. And his texting style was always silly enough to brighten things up a bit. The winky face was a nice touch.

_'Only for you, Kenny.'_ he replied. Kenny responded again with a string of emojis and then promptly announced that he was going to sleep.

By then, Cartman had gotten what he needed from his room and was ready to go. Impatient, even. “Come on, Jew,” he whined.

“My God, fine, let's go!”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short and a lot of dialogue but I just wanted to keep updating once or twice a week for as long as I can! Thanks again for all the great feedback I've gotten so far, it really motivates me!!

July first was approaching at an alarming rate. Although his birthday was coming up, Kyle had noticed Cartman had been drinking a lot more when they hung out in the evenings, once even putting down a six pack before dinnertime.

Kyle sat crossed legged on Cartman's bed as he waited for him to decide whether he wanted to see the newest Marvel movie at the theater or not.

“I'm not a lightweight, Jew,” Cartman said when Kyle confronted him about his day drinking. “I'm barely even buzzed.”

“Yeah, but it's the middle of the day!” Kyle said as he watched Cartman pace the room.

Cartman closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the wall. “Drinking is all I have in life.”

“Don't be stupid, Cartman!” Kyle huffed.

Jerking around suddenly, Cartman whipped his half-full can of beer across the room where it exploded against the wall. “Fine!”

Kyle jumped back, holding his hands out in front of him, startled. “Jesus, dude! What the fuck? Calm down!”

Cartman slumped down on the bed. “Fuck,” he mumbled. He took a long, deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Okay. Okay. I'm fine now.”

Kyle gave him an incredulous glare. “Dude. What the fuck was that all about?”

“Nothing. I'm fine.”

“You just whipped a beer can across your bedroom for no reason!”

Cartman laid back and ran his hands through his toffee-brown hair. “I'm just a tad bit stressed out, my Jew.”

“But it's summer.”

“Aren't you at all stressed out about college or anything?”

Kyle thought it over for a moment. “Well, yeah, but-”

“I know you think I shouldn't be stressed because I'm not going to college, right?”

“I wasn't going to say it like that,” Kyle said softly.

“No, I get it,” Cartman sighed. “But like... I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life. And my birthday's coming up and I'm gonna be a legal adult and...” He bit down hard on his bottom lip.

“You're not ready to grow up. I know what you mean.”

“It's bullshit, Jew! How the hell am I supposed to just grow the fuck up?”

“I mean, just because you're turning eighteen doesn't mean you have to immediately move out,” said Kyle.

“Yes it does,” Cartman said, his voice catching in his throat, slightly. “My mom's kicking me out after this summer.”

Kyle's mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Cartman shrugged. “I guess she's sick of me. She tried to phrase it in a way where it sounded like she's doing it for my own good but I really think she just doesn't want me around anymore. She's getting married to some guy I've only met once so I guess she thinks I'll chase him off or something.” He was quiet for a minute. “That's where she is now, though. I wasn't invited.”

“That... That's so fucked up, dude...” Kyle gasped.

“Don't tell anybody, okay? I don't want anybody's pity,” said Cartman with a sharp, forced smile.

“I won't but... like... damn...” He paused a moment. “If you need anyth-”

“Jew! What did I just say about how I don't want anybody's pity!?”

“But I-”

“Hmmm!?” interrupted Cartman.

“I'm only-”

Cartman cut him off with a screech.

“Alright, fine!” said Kyle, exasperatedly.

 _“Thank_ you!” said Cartman, leaning against the wall. _“Any_ how, let's go do something before I go crazy.”

“Wanna go see that movie, then?”

“But that's so gay.”

 _“You're_ so gay!”

“I know but I don't want anybody to know that!”

“How will going to see a movie force you out of the closet?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” said Cartman, “if I saw it by myself that's super lame but if I see it with _just_ you, that's super gay.”

“Why? Because they'll think it's a date or something?” Kyle gave him a speculative look. “Who cares, dude?”

Cartman scoffed. “Kyle, _please,_ half of our class already thought we were boning all through high school.”

Kyle's mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like someone who would lie to you?”

“I'm not gonna answer that but _Jesus._ All through high school? I need names, Cartman. I'm legitimately stunned.”

“Let's see... Bebe's whole friend group, basically. Craig. Clyde. Kenny.”

“Kenny?!”

“Yeah, junior year Kenny asked me how long it took me to get in your pants and I-”

“Don't tell me you kicked him in the nuts.”

“I KICKED HIM RIGHT IN THE NUTS!” Cartman howled.

Kyle shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “I can't believe it. How did I not find out about this until now?”

“Because you're oblivious as fuck, Kyle! It doesn't take a genius to know you're totally into me,” Cartman said with a vicious grin.

“Oh, you _wish,_ Cartman!” Kyle snapped.

“How do you know me so well, Kyle?” Cartman teased, batting his eyelashes.

Kyle snorted. “You're just so predictable.”

“Au contraire, my Jewish friend,” Cartman said, slyly, “I'm probably the least predictable person you know.”

“That's actually true. You're not one for being consistent, are you?”

“Consistency is for pussies.”

“Consistency is for civilized human beings,” Kyle countered.

“Well, we've never been very civilized, have we?”

“Cartman, you're making my head hurt. Are we gonna go see a movie or not?” complained Kyle.

“Fine, if you wanna go on a gay date with me!” Cartman said, getting to his feet.

“It is _not_ a date!”

  
  


 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“That movie was so fucking lame,” Cartman said, blinking as they walked into the glaring sunlight from the dimness of the cinema.

“I thought it was good!” cried Kyle, tossing his empty soda cup into the trash.

“Captain America is so fucking boring tho. He reminds me of Stan.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “You just think Captain America is boring because you think a character has to have a dark or sadistic side to be watchable.”

“Duh! Obviously! There's a reason villains are just always cooler! How many times can Cap punch Nazis in the face before it gets old? Villains always have a motive and a deeper purpose but heroes just do it because 'it's the right thing to do,'” said Cartman. “The rest of the Avengers are great. Iron Man? Selfish asshole that I can relate to and aspire to be like. Cool. Black Widow? Ruthless killing machine. Cool. Hawkeye? Random guy with a bow and arrow who hangs out with super humans like it's no big deal. Cool. Hulk? Turns into a literal monster when he gets angry. Cool. Thor? Stupid motherfucker but he's an alien god of thunder so? Cool. Captain America?” He blew a raspberry and turned his thumb down. “Not cool.”

Kyle made a disgusted noise. “That's the most faulty reasoning I've ever heard, Cartman!”

“You're fooling yourself, Kyle! The most appealing thing about Captain America is his totally-not-gay-no-homo 'friendship' with The Winter Soldier!”

“I... Can't actually disagree with that statement?” Kyle said, warily.

“Let me tell you my feelings about Bruce Banner though.”

“Oh God, please no..”

“So the Hulk? He's pretty fuckin' cool. Bruce Banner? Pussy,” Cartman continued, making large hand gestures while he talked. He stopped abruptly. “Wait, Kyle. I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Let's get ice cream.”

“Of course you'd suggest we get ice cream, you fatass. As if it isn't already gay enough that we saw a movie together,” said Kyle.

“You're the one who said you didn't care how gay you looked! It's like 85 degrees! Let's get ice cream, Goddammit!”

“Fine,” Kyle sighed.

Outside of the ice cream parlor, chocolate cone in hand, Cartman continued his Avengers discourse.

“I wouldn't say Tony Stark is my type but, like, he's not _not_ my type,” he said.

“So you'd sleep with him?”

“Duh? Are you kidding me? I'd pay _him_ money to suck his dick!” Cartman exclaimed.

“Tony Stark or Robert Downey Jr.?”

“Let's be real, Kyle, they're basically the same person.”

“That's true.”

“Which Avenger is your type?” asked Cartman.

Kyle thought for a minute. “None of them?” he said with a shrug.

“Well, if you _had_ to pick.”

Kyle sighed. “I don't know, dude... Uh... I mean, like, Thor's not _bad_ to look at...” he said, blushing a little into his strawberry ice cream.

Cartman nodded sagely. “That makes sense. You seem like a Loki-fucker though.”

“What!? No! He's fucking crazy, Cartman!” cried Kyle.

“Well, _I'd_ fuck Loki but I wouldn't let him top,” Cartman said, frankly.

“Would you really let anyone top though, Cartman? Let's be real here.”

“You're probably right. Still, Tony Stark though, maybe.”

Kyle breathed a laugh. “Why are we even having this conversation?”

Cartman bit into his ice cream cone with a loud crunch and shrugged. “It's an important topic from one fag to another.”

Kyle made a face. “Don't use that word, Cartman.”

Cartman sighed loudly. “Fine, you soul sucking Jew.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and changed the subject. “So, what do you wanna do for your birthday? It's this weekend and I promised Kenny I'd make sure it doesn't suck or something.”

“I can't believe Poor Kid's not even gonna show. But I _have_ been thinking about this. I wanna go camping,” said Cartman.

“I thought you hated camping?”

“Sleeping in the woods'll be better than sleeping in my shitty house. I say we go to Stark's Pond and get wasted for the whole weekend. I've got a big-ass tent and an air mattress and shit so it doesn't totally suck.”   
“That sounds like fun,” said Kyle.

“It'll be fuckin' epic. Nostalgia to the max.”

Kyle smiled a bit wistfully. As kids they would do this kind of thing all the time but he hadn't been camping in the clearing by the pond in years. It would be nice to do it again before he left for college, even if it was just with Cartman.

To be honest, he was beginning to feel closer to him than he did to Stan, who had always been his best friend. Maybe it was because Stan was busy and he went days without texting back or maybe it was something else. Either way, Kyle didn't really mind. Reluctantly, he had to admit to himself that Cartman could actually be good company and maybe things really were different. He didn't say it out loud though, not to anyone.

“Speaking of your birthday, I still have to get you a birthday present,” said Kyle.

Cartman scoffed. “Don't be gay, Jew.”

“What!?”

“You don't have to get me a present. That's like... I'm not...” he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “You just don't have to.”

“I know I don't _have_ to. I want to.”

Cartman made an incredulous noise. “Whatever,” he said, sounding legitimately surprised. “But I'm not gonna give you any hints. And it better be good.”

“Alright. I'm just saying, though, you're going to actually have to spend an afternoon by yourself for once,” said Kyle.

“Ew,” Cartman said but he didn't say anything else.

Kyle got up from the stoop they were sitting on. “Come on. It's too hot out here.” He debated taking off his hat for once. It was sweltering out and his hair clung to his head in sticky ringlets. The heat got the best of him and he removed his hat to run his hand through his coppery, red hair. He tucked his hat into the back pocket of his cargo shorts.

Cartman stared at him for a moment, examining him scrupulously with narrowed eyes. “Nice hair.”

Kyle snorted. “Thanks,” he said sharply, with sarcasm.

“No, I mean it,” Cartman said, a bit softer. “It looks good.”

Kyle flushed lightly but blamed it on the heat. “Thanks,” he said again, more sincerely this time.

Cartman nodded, sagely. “Where to, Jew?” he asked, finishing his melting ice cream cone and gesturing to the road in front of them.

“Somewhere with air conditioning?”

“Uh, my basement?”

“Don't say it like that,” said Kyle, making a face.

“It's not like it's a sex dungeon or something!” said Cartman, scrunching his nose up into a bubbly laugh that made Kyle's chest feel tight for some reason he couldn't place.

With a heavy breath and a small laugh, Kyle started after Cartman down the sidewalk.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Two days before Cartman's birthday, he started getting ready to go camping at the pond. He seemed excited for it and, admittedly, Kyle was too. They planned on setting up camp the day before his birthday and staying out until Independence Day had passed. The bed of Cartman's truck was already filled with the compacted tent and other supplies they would need for the weekend. Cartman had even managed to go shopping, _by himself,_ to fill the cooler with food for the trip, which was pretty impressive for him, Kyle thought.

“You do know,” Kyle said, as Cartman rummaged through the back of his truck one more time, “we're only going to be gone for a couple days. And we're only camping fifteen minutes away.”

“Irrelevant,” said Cartman, making sure, again, that he _definitely_ had enough marshmallows. “We aren't coming back for anything. That's the pussy way. We're Bear Grylls-ing it, Kyle.”

“Okay, but if we run out of water I guarantee you I'm not drinking anybody's pee,” Kyle warned, narrowing his eyes at Cartman, who shrugged.

“What's the big deal, Jew? It's not like you haven't done it before.”

Kyle folded his arms over the tailgate. “Once. And it was the worst thing I've ever done and I am _never_ doing that again _ever,_ under _no_ circumstances,” he said.

“Not even for a million dollars?”

“Not even for a million dollars.”

“Not even if you were gonna die?”

“I would rather die.”

“What if _I_ was gonna die?”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “In what kind of situation would I need to drink pee to save your life?”

“I don't know but, what if? Would you do it?” Cartman asked with an eager grin.

Kyle thought for a moment, actually considered it for a brief second. “No. Rest in peace, Fatass.”

Cartman let out a loud bark of a laugh. “Savage.” He leaped over the side of the truck, surprisingly nimble and leaned against it, crossing his arms. The late sun danced through his bangs, illuminating his eyes in the golden light. “I'd drink piss for you, you know.”

Kyle glanced up from under long eyelashes. “Would you?”

“For sure.”

Kyle scoffed and looked away. “Thanks, I guess.”

Cartman looked impressively thoughtful for a moment but only said “Do you think we have enough food?”

“I don't know, Cartman. How much did you buy?”

“A shitload of hot dogs.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hot dogs aren't kosher, Cartman...”

“That's why I got the all beef ones, Jew-face. I _know_ you can't have pork for whatever stupid Jew reason,” Cartman said, exasperated.

“Oh,” said Kyle, actually surprised. “That... That was really thoughtful of you.”

“Yeah, well, don't get used to me being thoughtful. I just didn't want you to starve in the wilderness.”

“Don't worry, I won't,” said Kyle. “But, seriously, did you get anything other than hot dogs because hot dogs for five days is gonna be a little rough, don't you think?”

“Do you not have _any_ faith in me, Kyle?” said Cartman. He took a small notepad out of his pocket and listed things off. “Mountain pie stuff, shit you can cook in the fire like corn and potatoes, burger stuff cuz there's a charcoal grill there, charcoal, chips, drinks, ice, sandwiches, water, stupid stuff like apples... and stuff... because you're a delicate Jew who needs his vitamins... But mostly hot dogs.”

“Wow,” said Kyle. “I'm impressed!”

Cartman made a uncomfortable noise. “Ehhh, that's weird. Don't be weird.”

“I'm not being weird. I honestly-”

“No. Stop. Bad Jew.” He held a finger up threateningly. “Stop being so nice.”

“But-”

“Stop it.”

“You-”

“Kyyyyyle,” Cartman whined smacking himself in the face with his notepad. “Stooooooooooooop.” He was blushing a little bit.

“Fine,” Kyle huffed. “I won't say anything nice about you!”

“Phew,” Cartman said. After another moment he asked “Is the hippie coming back for the Fourth?”

“Stan? No. The camp has some big event with fireworks and stuff,” said Kyle.

“Good,” said Cartman. “If he showed up he'd probably try to teach us nature shit like 'Wow, look at this neat shrub.'”

Kyle snorted a laugh.

“BUT, you reminded me that we SHOULD get fireworks.”

“Oh, God, no. We'll burn down the forest.”

Ignoring him, Cartman took a pen out of the cab of his truck and wrote “FIREWORKS” in big letters on his notepad, circling and underlining it, though he knew some of the folks in town always set off a big display that they were probably going to be able to see from the clearing near the pond.

Putting the notepad back away, Cartman stared into the setting sun, squinting against it. He sighed. “You should go home. You still have to pack, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” said Kyle, watching him, curiously. “And I'm going to relish sleeping in my bed while I can since we're sleeping in the woods for the next five days.”

“It won't be so bad. I've got an air mattress.”

“We're sharing an air mattress?”

“Yeah? So? We've shared a bed lots of times.”

“Yeah, but you roll around so much and take up all of the space!”

“Do you _want_ to sleep on the ground?”

Kyle thought about it and then sighed. “No.”

“Then suck it up, buttercup,” said Cartman, popping his lips on the last “p” and smirking.

Kyle stuck his hands in his pockets. “I'll see you tomorrow then? What time?”

“Yeah, but just come over whenever. If I'm sleeping you can just come in and wake me up, I don't care,” said Cartman.

“Have you ever heard of an alarm?”

“Have you ever heard of sleeping?”

“Have you ever heard of being a prick?”

“No, but I'm pretty sure you have.”

Kyle's face flushed bright red even though he had walked right into that one.

Cartman laughed his bright, contagious laugh and pushed himself off of the side of the truck and walked backwards a few paces towards his front door. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” said Kyle, heading in the opposite direction, also backwards.

Cartman turned but looked back over his shoulder with a grin and a look that was hard to decipher. “Yeah,” he said, excitement, for some reason, creeping into him, “bright and early.” He winked quickly and Kyle stopped in his tracks for a moment as Cartman slipped quietly inside.

Behind the door, Cartman leaned back, hand still on the doorknob, and let out a deep breath and, that night, with packed bags beside his bed, Kyle laid awake wondering what that wink meant and why it made butterflies swarm inside of him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Although they had planned to have their campsite set up before the sun started to set, due to _unforeseen circumstances,_ such as Kyle realizing that _bugs_ lived in the woods, inciting an impromptu quest for bug spray that lasted the better part of an hour, the tent wasn't fully pitched and the fire set until the sky was already streaked with orange and pink.

The pond, which was really more of a lake, was still and only the sway of the reeds and the rustling of the trees gave any indication of the slight breeze. In the grass, crickets chirped and frogs sang near the banks. The fire crackled.

“Is this lame?” Cartman asked after he had been silent for a long while, watching the fire burn up the pine cones and blades of grass he had been throwing in.

From across the coals, Kyle looked up. “No. It's nice.”

Cartman nodded. “Okay. I just didn't want you to get bored and want to leave. You can leave if you want, I'll probably only get eaten by wolves, is all.”

“I doubt I could stop wolves from eating you,” Kyle said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But I won't leave. Unless you're being more of an asshole than usual. Then I'll leave. But this is fine. You're not so bad.”

Cartman rubbed the back of his neck, a bit sheepishly. “Okay, well, as long as that's settled.” He grabbed a six-pack of beer that was sitting on the log next to him. “Time to drink my life away.”

“Don't drink your _whole_ life away,” said Kyle.

“I'll do it, Jew. Just you watch me,” said Cartman, popping the tab on a can and tossing one over the fire, to Kyle.

Kyle caught it and looked at it, disdainfully for a moment, debating whether or not he wanted it, before opening it. It cracked open with a satisfying hiss. He took a sip and it was warm and malty and he scrunched up his face at the taste. Cartman, on the other hand, chugged his quickly and chucked the crumpled can into the fire. He opened another can.

“Maybe you should slow down, Cartman,” Kyle said, raising an eyebrow. “You're gonna get wasted in an hour and be miserable to hang out with and I _will_ push you in the pond.”

Cartman looked down at his open can of beer and sighed, setting it on the ground, next to his feet. He pushed his hair back, out of his eyes. “Sorry.”

The sky had faded from warm gold to black and had come alive with stars. It was so clear that even the great, cloudy rift of the galaxy's arms was visible. Kyle looked up as the tiny streak of a meteor glinted above the clearing.

“You don't have to be sorry. I just wish you didn't keep it bottled up until you get drunk and angry,” he admitted. “You can talk to me.”

“Can I yell?” asked Cartman.

“If you need to yell and throw shit, it's probably better that you do it out here anyhow,” Kyle said with a shrug.

“Hmm,” said Cartman, getting to his feet. At the bank of the pond, he bent over and gathered several good sized, round rocks. He rose again and walked down the short, wooden dock that jutted out into the water. He cleared his throat as he ran his thumb over one of the smooth stones. Suddenly, he pitched it as far and as hard as he could across the pond with a loud cry. It landed in the water with a deep splash.

“Fuck you, Mom!” he shouted at the sky. “Fuck you for everything you did when I was a kid that left me fucked up! Fuck you for treating me like a baby until you decided you were done being a mom! Fuck you for not being there for me in the ways I needed you to be! And fuck you for not even inviting your own _fucking_ son to your _fucking_ wedding!” His voice broke as he screamed, chucking another rock a good distance into the water.

By this point, Kyle had gotten to his feet as well and stood near the water, watching with a concerned expression, but he didn't interrupt. Cartman needed this.

“Fuck you, God!” yelled Cartman. He was crying although he was trying very hard not to, choking on the hard lump in his throat. “Fuck you for making me a bitter piece of shit with no dad and a non-functioning mom! I didn't ask for any of this! I'm trying to be a better fucking person but I just ended up hating myself so fuck you!” In rapid succession, he threw the rest of the stones into the pond until he was out of steam and out of breath. He slipped on the wet dock and fell to his knees, still shaking.

“Cartman?” Kyle called, softly.

Perking up, slightly, at the sound of Kyle's voice, Cartman heaved himself to his feet and wiped his face on his shirt, hastily. “Yeah?” he croaked.

“Are you okay?” asked Kyle, standing in front of him just off the dock.

Cartman nodded but didn't meet his eyes. “I'm fine,” he said in a hoarse, shuddering voice. “Got that off my chest, at least.”

Kyle hugged him, firmly, face buried in the softness of his chest, arms around his neck. Cartman didn't hesitate to return the embrace in a tight bear hug that lasted a long time. When he let go, he slid his hands down Kyle's back, still holding him at the hips, and finally met his gaze.

Then, suddenly, they were kissing and neither of them knew who had initiated it but it was soft and needy and lingering. Kyle's hands found their way to the squareness of Cartman's jawline, cupping his face as he kissed him, then down his neck and to his chest where he clutched his shirt in strong fistfuls, pulling him closer. They both tasted like beer and candy and when Kyle tilted his head slightly so Cartman could slip his tongue between his lips it was delightfully sweet. After a minute, Cartman breathed a laugh into the kiss and Kyle pulled back, red up to the ears, looking, lustfully up from under impossibly long eyelashes, giggling nervously, but feeling like a tremendous weight had been lifted from the pit of his stomach.

“Wow,” Cartman exhaled.

“Wow,” repeated Kyle, licking his lips. “That's... um... wow...” It wasn't cold at all but he was shivering slightly, adrenaline pulsing through him. Cartman pulled him into another warm hug and he could feel his heart racing in his wide chest.

“I'm gonna go ahead and say something really gay,” said Cartman, easing up on the embrace a little.

Kyle looked up at him, half-lidded. “Do go on.”

“I've wanted to kiss you like that since middle school,” he said, weakly.

Kyle's breath hitched and he hid his blushing face in Cartman's shirt. “Dude,” he said, almost inaudibly, muffled against him.

“But I didn't think you...”

“Of course I like you,” Kyle interrupted, pulling back. “I didn't realize I did until recently but I did and I do.” He swallowed hard. “S-so, like, kiss me again before I go crazy or something.”

Cupping Kyle's face in his hands, Cartman leaned down to kiss him again, a bit sloppier this time, but still just as sweet. Kyle gasped as Cartman bit down on his bottom lip, tugging at it lightly with his teeth. He wove his hands up through Cartman's hair, tangling it in his fingers. One long kiss turned into many short ones until Cartman was peppering Kyle's flushing face with tiny pecks as Kyle snorted a laugh.

Cartman looked down at him and smiled and Kyle had never seen anyone have so much adoration in their eyes that he felt as if his heart might burst. Cartman would have been happy standing there and kissing Kyle all night but he really needed to sit down.

“You're making me lightheaded,” said Cartman, taking Kyle by the hand and leading him back to the logs by the fire.

“Lightheaded from lack of air from sucking on my face,” Kyle teased.

Cartman shrugged, poking the fire with a stick, sending a flurry of glowing embers into the air. “What can I say? I'm greedy.”

“Do you wanna talk about this?” Kyle asked after a pause.

“No,” said Cartman, “we don't have to talk about anything right now.”

“But, I mean, this really complicates things,” said Kyle, fidgeting where he sat.

“That's why I don't want to talk about it right now,” said Cartman. “Let's just enjoy what we've got right now and then, after the Fourth, when we go back home, we'll talk.”

“Okay,” Kyle said, watching as Cartman loaded a sharpened stick up with at least five marshmallows and stuck it directly into the flames. “Cartman, you're gonna burn those!”

“They're better that way.”

“You have terrible taste,” shunned Kyle, picking up his own stick and stabbing only one single marshmallow upon it and held it low, near the coals, turning it slowly until the outside was an even, bubbly, golden brown. He held it up, proudly. “Perfect.”

Cartman's marshmallows were currently on fire. “I like my marshmallows well done,” he said, the flames casting shadows on his face that made him look like a madman as he watched the blackened amalgam of molten sugar combust in front of him. “Burn, baby, burn.”

“You're gonna lose the whole thing when it falls off the stick,” Kyle warned, sandwiching his perfect marshmallow between graham crackers and chocolate.

“Would you shut up and let me create my gourmet masterpiece? It's almost done.” He pulled the stick back and blew out the flames, scraping together his charred s'more. “It's beautiful.”

“Lovely,” Kyle said, raising an eyebrow.

Cartman grinned across the campfire, oranges and golds sparkling in his eyes. “I'm the best at making s'mores, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh, I bet you're the best at a _lot_ of things,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm.

“You'd be surprised,” said Cartman.

It was a little extraordinary that the two of them could go right back to their normal banter after sharing intimacy, but it was almost to be expected. Some dynamics don't change.

Through the fire, they stared at each other for a long time, wordlessly, studying each other and their faces while the embers crackled and the fire died.

“Hmm,” said Kyle after a while, slapping his thighs as he stood up. “Well, this has been fun but I'm going to bed.”

“It's not even midnight, you loser,” said Cartman.

“You can stay up by yourself, then.”

“Nah, that's lame,” Cartman said, diving from his seat, into the tent, kicking off his shoes and stripping into his underwear before Kyle had even gotten up, flopping down on the queen-sized air mattress, spreading out, feigning seduction. He patted the spot next to him as Kyle appeared in the unzipped entryway. “Kyle,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.

Kyle blinked, unamused. “Hot,” he said dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “And look at this, you've made the bed into a fucking slope with your weight. I'm gonna keep rolling into you because of your massive gravity all night.”

Cartman laughed, sarcastically. “You act like you wouldn't like it.”

“What if I didn't?”

“Uh, then you can go sleep in a tree?” Cartman said with a heavy scoff.

Kyle sat down on the edge of the mattress, unlacing his boots and tossing them outside of the tent, quickly changing into a pair of sweatpants. He laid back, leaning on his elbow, narrowing his eyes at Cartman who grinned at him. “You're such a little shit. Why do I even like you?”

“All that matters is that you liiiiike me,” said Cartman, trying not to let on how warm that made him feel inside.

Kyle pulled up the comforter he had brought from his house, switching off the battery powered lantern that was sitting nearby, enveloping them in darkness. “Goodnight, Fucktard.”

“Goodnight, Jew.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

When he woke up first, Kyle realized Cartman's arm was around him, holding him tightly as he slept. It was chilly and Cartman was a human space heater so it felt nice for that reason, among others. It wasn't quite dawn but the birds outside had begun to sing softly and dim, blue light filtered through the plastic ceiling of the tent.

Moving slowly, Kyle rolled over, still under Cartman's arm, snuggling into his chest. Cartman stirred and Kyle pretended to be asleep as he heard him mumble something, sleepily.

“Oh,” said Cartman, softly, to himself, as he realized Kyle was there, cuddled close to him. Shifting a bit, he held him a little tighter, and pressed his lips to Kyle's head, gently and Kyle hoped he couldn't feel his heart flutter in his chest.

As Cartman's breathing became regular again he fell back asleep, Kyle dozed off again, feeling truly wonderful.

When Kyle woke up again, he was alone, lying half draped off of the air mattress amidst tossed about covers. He sat up, sleepily, and rubbed his eyes, yawning. Crawling to his feet, he unzipped the door of the tent and stepped out.

Cartman was dressed and hunched over on the ground by what used to be their campfire, using a magnifying glass and the morning sun to fry ants to death. He didn't look up when he noticed he was no longer by himself. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” asked Kyle, squinting as he stepped into the daylight.

“Killin' ants,” Cartman replied, fixated on the ground.

“That's sociopathic behavior, Cartman.”

Cartman sat back, looking up at Kyle with raised eyebrows. “Yep, you know what they say. One day you're zappin' ants, the next you're wearing a hooker's skin like a Snuggie in your basement,” he said. “Cute bedhead, by the way.”

Kyle snorted a laugh and instinctively ran his fingers through his curly, red catastrophe. “Thanks,” he said. “But, hey, happy birthday, dude. I got you something.”

“Kyle. What did I say about getting me something? The answer is: I said do not,” Cartman said with a scowl, watching Kyle rummage through his duffle bag.

“Don't worry, you'll like it,” said Kyle. “Here.” He handed Cartman a small package which he eyed suspiciously.

Cartman carefully unwrapped the tiny box, eyeing Kyle suspiciously the whole time. Inside was a small, silver ring. Cartman pressed his hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. “Wow, Kyle! I can't believe you're proposing to me!” He pretended to wipe tears from his eyes. “I'm so touched!”

“No, Dumbass, it's a fidget ring,” Kyle explained.

“Jesus, I'm not fuckin' Tweek,” said Cartman. He slipped the ring on his finger and it fit comfortably. The inner section was made to spin when played with. It looked really nice too, he had to admit.

“I know, but I thought maybe it'd help when you get antsy,” Kyle said, blushing a little.

“I like it. Thanks,” said Cartman, pink spreading across his cheeks. “It... uh... means a lot...” He loudly cleared his throat.

“I got you something else too,” Kyle said with a smirk, taking another, larger package out from behind his back.

“Nooooooooo,” Cartman groaned, falling backwards into the sandy dirt near the shore. “You're gonna make me _feel things!”_

“This one's even better, trust me,” Kyle said, trying to hide the excited grin that had formed on his face.

With a sigh, Cartman took the package and opened it quickly. Upon seeing what was inside he barked a loud laugh. “Oh my God, this is fucking _hilarious!”_ he cried. It was a collection of three movies picked out by Kyle, specifically. “Mean Girls, Twilight, _and_ Gay Best Friend?! It's like the Holy Trinity, oh my fuck! This is so fucking funny, Kyle, I LOVE it!” He was howling with laughter.

Kyle giggled too, beaming. “I hoped you would! I figured these movies captured your essence.”

“This is the _gayest_ collection of things I've ever held in my hands at one time, I'm having a supernatural experience,” Cartman said through tears of laughter. “We're having a movie marathon as soon as we get back home! You're watching all of them with me!”

“Do I have to?”

“You brought this upon yourself, Broflovski!”

“I suppose I did, didn't I?” Kyle said, shaking his head.

“Yes. Thank you. This is the best thing ever,” Cartman said, clutching the movies to his chest. “It's beautiful, you're beautiful.”

Redness sprung back into Kyle's cheeks. “S-so anyhow, what do you wanna do today?”

“I don't know but I'm fucking starving, said Cartman, laying down in the grass. “Let's cook breakfast and then go fishing or something.”

Kyle made a face. “I hate fishing.”

“Well, then just sit in the boat with me while I do, then,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes.

“The last time I got into a boat with you, you tried to kill me with a whiffle ball bat,” Kyle said, frowning.

“Wow, that's a blast from the past, huh?” said Cartman. “Ah, youth.” He smiled innocently up at Kyle. “Make me breakfast?”

“Fine, but only because it's your birthday,” Kyle huffed, opening the cooler to find something to cook.

Later in the evening, when the sun had just begun to set, Cartman got a phone call. Stan, Kenny, and Butters had called him earlier while they had been sitting around on the dock all afternoon, Kyle watching as Cartman tried, unsuccessfully, to catch a fish, so Kyle figured it must, finally, be his mom.

Cartman looked down at his phone and scowled. He shot Kyle a look from across the new fire they had built and then stood, walking into the woods a little ways to answer. “Hi, Mom.”

Kyle tried not to listen to the distant conversation and, instead, focused on the popping and crackling of the fire. It was kind of hard to ignore though, since Cartman was generally loud. Kyle caught a few phrases such as “Yeah, thanks for that,” “Great. Great. Awesome. Okay,” and “Okay, sure, Mom, I'm _so_ happy for you.”

The conversation didn't last long and Kyle figured that was probably for the best because, even after the short call, Cartman came back absolutely livid.

“Hey, dude, you okay?” Kyle asked as Cartman paced nearby with his hands balled into fists and stuffed in his pockets.

“Peachy,” Cartman gritted through clenched teeth.

“Do you... wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Cartman said, quickly.

“Do you want me to make you a s'more?”

Cartman's face softened a little. “No, but thanks.”

“Dude, you've never turned down a s'more in your life. I'm concerned.”

Cartman sat down on the log next to him. “Don't worry about me. My mom is just... the same as always.” He closed his eyes and took a long breath in. “It's okay,” he said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself of that.

Kyle stared at him and realized how badly he wanted to kiss him and tell him it would be okay but he wasn't sure if it was the right time and he wasn't really sure how Cartman would react so, instead, he rested his hand on his knee, gingerly.

Cartman almost flinched at Kyle's touch but perked up slightly and glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I'm...” Kyle started, “I'm here if you need me to be...”

Cartman let out a breath and smiled weakly. “Thank you,” he mouthed. He leaned, heavily, against Kyle's shoulder and Kyle put his arm around him and they sat like that for a long time, not saying anything.

Suddenly, Cartman perked up entirely. “Oh my God,” he said.

Kyle jumped and looked over at him. “Huh?”

“I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“You,” Cartman said, sticking an accusatory finger in Kyle's face.

“Me?!” Kyle yelped. “What about me?!”

“You _like_ me!”

Kyle snorted. “You fucking forgot?”

“I did!” Cartman said. “I did forget but now I remember and now. I. Know.”

Kyle shook his head, laughing. “You're so weird.”

“You liiiiiiike me,” Cartman singsonged.

“We went over this yesterday!”

“I'm still getting used to the idea!”

Kyle took this opportunity to swing his leg over Cartman's, straddling him. “Well, get used to it,” he said.

Cartman's heart skipped a beat and he grabbed Kyle's hips as he sat in his lap. “You-” he said breathlessly “are such a little slut, aren't you?”

Kyle's face flushed brightly. “No, I just... You're just...” He couldn't quite figure out what to say so, alternatively, he shut himself up by kissing Cartman, roughly, bunching up his fingers in his brown hair.

Cartman kissed back, readily. “God,” he muttered into Kyle's mouth. He grabbed Kyle's ass with both hands and squeezed tightly, eliciting a breathy moan. “You're so-” he started before falling, backwards over the log, Kyle landing on top of him with a yelp.

Cartman laughed and struggled to sit upright. “Come on,” he said, taking Kyle by the hand and leading him into the tent, flicking on the lantern, filling the area with light. He sat down on the bed, kicking off his shoes as Kyle did the same. “Better?” he asked, bringing him back on top of him, kissing his neck.

“Yes,” said Kyle, shivering as Cartman nipped at his earlobe. “Much- ah- better.”

“Mmm,” Cartman murmured as Kyle kissed him, fingers sliding under his shirt. He thrust his hips upwards to meet Kyle's, now fully aware of the erection that he pressed against his thigh.

With a slight gasp, Kyle sat back, eyes glued on Cartman's crotch at the very obvious bulge.

Cartman scoffed but blushed and sat up. “Stop, you act like you've never seen a boner before...”

“I have,” Kyle said, indignantly. “I just haven't ever... Given anyone one...”

“Bullshit,” said Cartman. “I've been consistently hard for you since the seventh grade.”

“Really?”

“Um. Yes, obviously? Have you seen yourself?”

Kyle frowned. “Unfortunately, I have.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “Don't give me that shit. You're sexy as fuck. I'm a picky man, Kyle. And yet, here I am. Raging boner. For you.”

Kyle reddened significantly. “Do you want me to... um...”

“Are you asking if I want you to get me off?” Cartman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Kyle said, shyly.

“Well... I mean...” Cartman said, a little embarrassed but mostly nervous, “If you really want to...”

“It _is_ your birthday, after all,” Kyle whispered, lips grazing Cartman's cheek. He gripped the inside of his thigh and traced the inseam of his jeans up to his crotch where he teased his fingers across the length of his clothed cock.

Cartman swallowed thickly and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Have you... ever done this before?” Kyle asked, glancing up to meet his eyes as he carefully unbuttoned his pants.

“No,” Cartman admitted, sheepishly. “I never, uh... I never even kissed anybody until last night...”

“So I'm your first kiss? I wouldn't have known. You're...” Kyle glanced down a little bit, “You're really good at it...” He slid his hand in between Cartman's jeans and his boxers, fondling him through yet another layer of fabric. “But, um, to be fair, I've never done this either...” He pulled down Cartman's underwear, letting his cock spring free. “Oh,” he said, a little surprised. “You're big.”

“Hah,” said Cartman, “Stroking my dick and my ego at the same time.”

“No, really. How big are you?” asked Kyle, gently running his fingers up and down his length.

“Uh, not sure. Seven inches, maybe?” Cartman muttered, distracted as Kyle gripped the shaft of his cock, stroking faster. “Shit, Kyle...”

Kyle spit into his hand and used it for extra slickness, finding a pumping rhythm that Cartman thrust his hips with. “Is that good?”

“Uh huh,” Cartman said, one hand gripping at the fabric of his jeans, the other at Kyle's shirt. “You're fucking amazing, goddamn.” He threw his head back a bit. “Fuck... Fuck.... Make me cum.”

“Cum for me,” Kyle whispered, feeling like he sounded a little stupid but it drew out a deep moan from Cartman which he thought was incredibly sexy.

With a series of short gasps and whimpers, Cartman came, spattering onto the plastic floor of the tent and in Kyle's hand. “Ohhhh my God,” he sighed once he finished, laying back onto the air mattress. “Holy fuck.”

Kyle looked disdainfully at his sticky hand and at the floor but at Cartman with a look of pride and adoration. “How was that?”

“That was fucking sweet,” Cartman panted. “I'm so tired now. Cuddle me.” He made grabby hands towards Kyle with a sleepy smile.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Let me clean this up first,” he said, gesturing to the mess on the floor and in his hand.

“Haha,” said Cartman, “Nice.”

Kyle quickly cleaned up the floor with a paper towel and then scurried outside and rinsed his hand in the pond. When he got back in the tent, Cartman had changed into a clean pair of boxers and a tank top. As he went to put on his sweat pants, Kyle realized, suddenly, that he was still hard. “Oh,” he said, looking down at himself. “Fuck. Go away.”

“You want me to help?” Cartman asked from under the covers, grinning and cocking an eyebrow.

“No,” said Kyle, a little embarrassed. “I'm not... I don't think I'm ready for that,” he admitted.

Cartman nodded. “Okay, that's cool. No pressure. Just come here.”

Kyle slid under the comforter, nuzzling his chest with his face as Cartman put his arms around him.

“Thank you,” Cartman said against Kyle's forehead, once he was almost asleep. “That was the best birthday present, ever. Seriously.”

He was barely awake, but Kyle laughed anyhow.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

The back of Cartman's truck was full of packed up supplies and Kyle was in the passenger seat singing along to the Rent soundtrack. His hat was off and his curls tumbled in the wind from the open window. Cartman had one hand on the wheel and the other on Kyle's knee and was smirking slightly, adding obnoxious commentary to the songs. It was July fifth and their camping trip was over but they were happy. Cartman wasn't sure if he'd ever been this happy.

Suddenly, he realized that, now that they were headed home, he had told Kyle that they would talk about the nature of their relationship and his stomach dropped. “Oh, balls.”

Kyle looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I promised you I'd talk about feelings and shit when we got home.”

“Feelings are cool.”

“Feelings are SHIT, Kyle! Shitty bullshit fucking shit!” Cartman withdrew his hand from Kyle's knee and placed it back on the steering wheel.

Kyle frowned. “Why?”

“Be _cause_ feelings change and people leave and it fucking sucks and then you die,” Cartman sighed, watching the road, carefully.

“Well, my feelings haven't changed, you asshole,” grumbled Kyle, leaning back in his seat, staring out the window.

“Yeah, well, they will cuz I fucking suck and you're gonna realize that and you're gonna leave. Well, I mean, you're already leaving so you might as well just realize I suck now and get it over with.”

Kyle scoffed. “I already _know_ you suck and I like you anyhow,” he growled into his seat belt. “And just because I'm going away at the end of the summer doesn't mean I wanna stop doing... whatever it is that we're doing...” His cheeks reddened a little bit. “And, I mean, I know neither of us have come out to our family or to our friends and I have no freaking clue what we're going to say to Stan and Kenny but whatever! We'll cross that bridge when we get to it! And, yeah, I'd rather not come out to my parents until I'm out of the house but, you know what? I don't give a shit if I have to lie to them for two more months! I'd rather them find out and, I dunno, disown me or something, than have to pretend that I don't like you!” He muttered a couple of insults under his breath at the end of his speech for good measure and turned, even more, towards the window, crossing his arms. “Now, would you fucking stop the car? You've been driving around our block for like five minutes!”

Cartman was quiet for a long time, circling the block one more time just to be safe. “You really mean that?” he asked after a while.

“Yes, I fucking mean that!” Kyle cried.

“That's...” he paused, glancing away from the road, briefly, “That's so fucking gay, dude.” He cracked a grin.

Kyle tried not to smile but was rather unsuccessful. “Oh, fuck _you,_ Cartman!”

“Hah!” Cartman laughed. “You can't even act like you don't want to, now!”

Kyle shook his head and shoved Cartman playfully as he pulled into his driveway. “You're such a prick,” he said, trying to hide how smitten he was. “Why do I even like you?”

Cartman shrugged, beaming, getting out. “Beats me! But all that matters is that you do!” He ran around the side of the truck, opening the door for Kyle before he could get to the handle.

Kyle raised his eyebrows, slightly impressed, getting out of the truck. “Wow, what a gentleman,” he said.

“Well,” Cartman said, sheepishly, “I've gotta make sure I have _some_ redeeming qualities.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Kyle snickered.

Cartman licked his lips and grinned, wolfishly. “Ya know, we could _probably_ unpack all this stuff later...”

“Hmmm,” Kyle said with a coy smirk, leaning against the passenger side door, arms crossed loosely at his chest, “yeah, I guess we _could,_ couldn't we? I mean, that is, if there's some other activity you need to do right now, immediately.”

“There definitely is,” said Cartman, unlocking the door to the house, holding it open for Kyle.

As soon as the door had shut behind him, Cartman had pinned Kyle up against the entry wall, kissing him ravenously. Kyle hooked one leg around the back of his knees, drawing him closer, hands finding fistfuls of his hair. Cartman bit down on his bottom lip and sucked it, roughly, and Kyle whimpered against his mouth.

Kyle looked up at him, green eyes glistening, hungrily. “You know, it'd be great to make out with you on an actual bed for once.”

“Oh, Goddamn,” said Cartman, fervently kissing his neck before quickly lifting him off his feet and slinging him over his shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing, Cartman?” Kyle screamed, grabbing handfuls of his shirt in case he might fall.

“Taking you up to my room,” said Cartman, carrying him effortlessly up the stairs. “Damn, you're so light it's like carrying a baby.”

Kyle complained until Cartman had thrown him down on his bed and climbed on top of him, kissing him roughly to shut him up.

“How's that?” Cartman asked, grinning. “Making out on a real bed. Is it everything you hoped for?”

“Yes,” said Kyle, wrapping his legs around Cartman's waist, “I don't have to worry that the air mattress is gonna suddenly pop underneath us.”

“That's fair,” said Cartman, propping himself up on one elbow, leaning down to trail his tongue along Kyle's neck. He, himself, also found that a real bed was better for fooling around since it provided more support for the desperate grinding he quickly discovered he was quite fond of. And, from the way Kyle was thrusting back against him, he seemed to like it too.

“Oh, Jesus _Christ,”_ Kyle sputtered as Cartman slid his shirt up to his armpits and licked at his nipples, sucking hard and leaving them purple and swollen.

“You Jews,” panted Cartman, pulling the rest of Kyle's shirt off, starting a line of kisses from his chest, up his jaw, “using Jesus's name in vain. Honestly, I'm ashamed of you, Kyle.”

“Fuck off,” Kyle managed, letting out a groan as Cartman tongued at his earlobe, humid breath in his ear. He pushed up Cartman's own shirt, running his hands up the smoothness of his belly and to the wispy hair of his chest. “Take your stupid shirt off, Stupid.”

“Ugh, fine,” Cartman whined, tugging his shirt over his head. “You're so needy.”

“I need you so you should be grateful,” Kyle sneered as Cartman sat on his knees.

“You're so-” Cartman started but was interrupted by the shrill beeping of Kyle's cellphone in his pocket.

Kyle looked up, apologetically, and then answered. “Oh, hey, Mom.”

Cartman huffed and rolled his eyes, unbuttoning his pants and throwing them across the room. He started working at Kyle's zipper with his teeth, ignoring the death glances he was shooting him while on the phone with his mother.

“I'm at Cartman's,” Kyle said, swallowing hard as Cartman shimmied him out of his jeans. “Yeah, we got back a little bit ago. We're, uh... we're gonna unpack all our stuff and I'll be home later, I guess. But, hey, I gotta go! Love you! Bye!” He quickly tapped the end call button and slammed his phone down on the nightstand, glaring at Cartman who was toying with the elastic of his boxers. “That was unnecessary.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes, I'm done. But, dude, I had to answer. It was my mom!” Kyle said, crossing his arms, propping himself up on a pillow. “Don't take my pants off while I'm on the phone with my mom, Cartman.”

Cartman sighed, dramatically. “I _had_ to! I got so _bored!”_

“I was on the phone for fifteen seconds!”

“Sooooo booooored,” Cartman complained, flopping himself down, heavily, on top of a struggling Kyle.

“Cartman,” Kyle wheezed, “Get off, you're killing me!”

Cartman groaned and sat up on his elbows. “Better?”

“Yes,” said Kyle, hands finding themselves, once again, at Cartman's chest.

“So much better now that your pants are off, huh?” Cartman asked with a smirk.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, for sure. But, honestly, I'm happier that yours are off.”

“Oh yeah?” asked Cartman, ghosting his lips across Kyle's cheek.

“Mmhm,” Kyle whispered into his ear, arousal creeping back into his voice.

Cartman shuddered at the breath on his neck and then pulled Kyle back into another longing kiss, parting his lips with his tongue, finding that, with the proper stimulation, he could elicit the most delicious noises. “You want me so bad,” he mused as Kyle bucked his hips upwards. “You're so fucking _depraved.”_

“Depravity has nothing to-”

_Ding-dong!_

Cartman tilted his head slightly. “Was that the fucking doorbell?”

_Ding-dong!_

“Yeah, dude, that was the doorbell,” said Kyle, casting his eyes downward. “You should probably answer that.”

“Fuck no,” said Cartman. “They can fucking wait.” He started a trail of kisses from Kyle's mouth down his chest.

“But wha-what if it's nnn- important,” Kyle whimpered as Cartman's lips found his nipples once again.

“I don't care, they-”

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

“Okay, what the FUCK!?” Cartman shouted, springing to his feet and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He stomped down the stairs, still in his underwear, furious that someone would interrupt his precious time with Kyle.

“What the fuck do you want?!” Cartman growled, throwing open the door.

“Hi, Cartman!” said Stan, cheerfully, from the doorstep.

All the color drained from Cartman's face and his first instinct was to slam the door on him, as if that'd make him go away or make it so that he'd never shown up.

_Ding-dong!_

Cartman opened the door again. “Marsh, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at gay camp or something?”

“Dude, it's not gay camp,” said Stan. “And, they gave me the day off so I decided to come back and hang out with you guys!”

“Oh,” said Cartman, breaking into a sweat, suddenly.

“Kyle's here, right? His mom called him and he said he was here too.”

Cartman swallowed, thickly. “Um, y-yes. The Jew's here but... he's in the shower.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Why are you in your underwear?”

“Because I just got out of the shower, Stan. Jesus.”

“But you're not even wet.”

“It's called a blow dryer, Stan Darsh. Honestly, you'd think you were from the stone age,” Cartman huffed. He was pretty good at lying but he really hoped Stan was feeling exceptionally gullible on this particular day. “Anyhow, come in, I guess. Lemme go tell Jew that you're here.”

Stan walked inside as Cartman hurried up the stairs.

In the bedroom, Kyle had removed his boxers and sprawled out, alluringly and, when Cartman rushed back in, he looked up. “So, I was th-”

“Stan's here,” Cartman panted.

A look of terror spread across Kyle's face. “Oh Jesus, dude!” He fumbled to find his clothes.

“There's no time!” cried Cartman, picking Kyle up with brute strength and carrying him, as fast as he could, to the bathroom across the hall. “I told him you were in the shower!” he hissed, tossing the very naked Kyle into the bathtub and turning the faucet on. “I have to go put pants on!”

As he exited the bathroom, Cartman saw Stan reach the top of the stairs. “Oh, there you are!”

“K-Kyle! The hippie's here!” Cartman shouted through the bathroom door. “So, you know, get out of the shower or whatever!”

“My... uh... my clothes are in the other room,” Kyle mumbled, sheepishly, from the shower.

“Fucking hell,” Cartman growled, storming in, slamming yet another door in Stan's face.

Stan heard Kyle yelp before he was thrust into the hallway, wearing nothing but Cartman's much too large boxers. “Hi, Stan,” he said, hoarsely, trying to keep the underwear from falling down.

Stan furrowed his brow. “Is this like a weird time?”

“No, not at all,” said Kyle. “I'm just... Cartman's an idiot.”

“I fucking heard that, Jew!” shouted Cartman, through the door.

“Good! Now you're the one stuck in the bathroom with no clothes, Fatass! What did you plan to do about that?!”

There was a loud crash followed by a dull thunk and a very flustered Cartman storming back into the hallway wearing the dripping shower curtain like a towel wrapped around himself. “Fuck you guys.”

Kyle snorted. “Alright then, Cartman.”

Stan raised his eyebrows. “Did you just tear down your shower curtain?”

“No, Stan, I went out and bought a new one. What the fuck do you think?” Cartman snarled.

“You didn't have to do that,” said Stan.

Cartman stuck a finger against one of his dimpled cheeks and batted his eyelashes.“Oh, gee, Stanley, I didn't realize you wanted to see my junk so bad. I'll send you nudes next time, I promise,” he snapped.

“Dude, chill out,” said Stan.

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously, Cartman.”

Cartman shot him a deadly glare. “Go put your fucking pants on, Jew.”

Something about his tone of voice made Kyle's hair stand on end and he wondered if things had just gotten a little more complicated.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Stan didn't stay for long but Kyle enjoyed the time he was there. As much as he liked all the alone time he and Cartman had been having, Stan was still his best friend and he missed him. And, with the way Cartman's glances seemed to be shooting daggers, he kind of didn't want Stan to leave. But, when he did leave to head back to camp, Kyle and Cartman waved goodbye from Cartman's driveway.

“Well,” said Kyle, “we've still got daylight if you wanna unpack the truck now.”

“No,” Cartman said, coldly, turning back for his front door.

“Dude, what the fuck? What are you pissed at me for?”

“Forget it. It's nothing.”

Kyle caught the door before Cartman could close it and followed him inside. “It's obviously not nothing if you're acting like this about it!”

“Acting like what?” Cartman asked with a fake smile, sitting down on the couch. “I'm perfectly fine. Awesome. Everything is just fucking dandy.”

“Just tell me what I fucking did so I can make sure I don't do it again! Jesus!” Kyle huffed.

Cartman looked up at him, looking more sad than angry now. “I don't wanna say it now cuz it sounds stupid...”

Kyle sat down next to him. “It's not stupid. Come on... I don't wanna piss you off,” he said.

“I dunno... You haven't called me a fatass in a while which was cool and then Stan shows up and you went right back to it so... I don't know... It's dumb,” Cartman said, looking down, shamefully.

“Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I didn't know it made you upset,” Kyle said, frowning. “I mean, yeah, I know it makes you upset but I didn't think it was like... a big deal.”

“It's not a big deal. We just kind of treat each other like shit when other people are around,” Cartman said, softly, barely above a whisper.

“We've gotta stop doing that,” Kyle said, scooting closer so that they were touching knees. “If we want to be something, we've gotta stop doing that.”

“Do you wanna be something?”

Kyle looked down, blushing. “I don't know... It'll be hard...”

“I know.”

Kyle gently bumped his head against Cartman's shoulder. “How are we gonna make this work?” he sighed.

“I don't know.” Cartman took Kyle's hand and squeezed it gently. “But I'm not giving up yet.”

Kyle kissed him tenderly. “Me either.” No matter how many times they kissed, it never failed to have his heart thumping, hard, in his chest. His lips ghosted across Cartman's cheek. “I have to go.”

“Don't go,” Cartman whined.

“I have to. I promised my mom I'd be home for dinner tonight,” said Kyle. “Want me to help unload the truck first?”

Cartman shook his head. “No, I've got it.”

“Are you sure? Some of that stuff is mine.”

“Yeah, I'm sure. You can come over and get it later,” he said with a wink. “Or, I can bring it there.”

“We'll see,” said Kyle, getting to his feet, leaning down to kiss him once again before turning for the door. “I'll text you.”

“See ya, Jew.”

“Bye, Cartman,” he said, lingering in the doorway for a few extra seconds before leaving.

At his house, Kyle was greeted upon entering with a hug from his mother, Sheila. “Kyle, Bubbie! How was your camping trip?”

“It was, uh, really great, actually,” said Kyle. “I had a really good time.”

“That's good but I'm so glad you're home!”

“Why?” Kyle cocked an eyebrow.

“Can't a mother miss her own son? You've hardly been around lately, always spending the night at Eric's house instead,” said Sheila.

“Well,” Kyle swallowed, “I'm not going to see him at all really after I leave for college so I figured I'd make it count.”

“I always thought you two didn't get along?” Sheila asked with pursed lips.

“He's been a good friend to me, lately,” Kyle managed, feeling a little guilty for some reason.

“Well, you always got into trouble with that boy when you were younger and I don't want that happening again. I guarantee that your father and I won't be paying the rent for the apartment you're staying in if you get into trouble,” Sheila warned.

“I won't get into trouble, I promise! And I'm gonna find a roommate when I'm up there so we can split the utility and food costs,” Said Kyle.

Sheila sighed and cupped his face in her hands. “Oh, I can't believe my little baby is going away in a few months. Your father and I have got to have a long talk before you go. No drugs. If you drink, you'd better not drive. And, God help me, if you get a girl pregnant-”

“Whoa mom! Relax! I'm not going to get anyone pregnant, I promise!” Kyle cried. He was really sure of that. Extremely sure. Completely positive.

“You say that now but then you'll meet a girl and you'll want to have sex with her and then-”

“No, seriously, Mom! I wont have sex with her! I'm not really interested in having sex.” That was a lie. He was completely interested in having sex. Just not with women.

Sheila sighed again. “You are such a sweet, innocent boy, Kyle,” she said, planting a wet kiss on his forehead. “Now, help me set the table for dinner.”

Kyle, suddenly, wasn't that hungry. He knew he was going to have to tell his parents he was gay at some point. He was just dreading the eminent task.

He also knew he would need to tell Stan and Kenny about Cartman and himself sooner rather than later. Things were different between them now and it felt healthier. He didn't want to have to continue throwing hurtful words at Cartman just for the sake of acting like they weren't interested in each other.

After dinner, while up in his room, alone, Kyle took out a piece of notebook paper and made a list titled “Things You've Got To Do When You're Secretly In A Kind-Of Relationship Thing With Your Formal Arch Rival.” The bullet points were as follows:

_Step One: Figure out your stupid feelings_

_Step Two: Figure out the nature of your relationship_

_Step Three: Tell your friend's you're gay_

_Step Four: Tell your parents you're gay_

_Step Five: Let your “partner??” come out to his family and friends_

_Step Six: Drop the bomb_

_Step Seven: Get the fuck out of town as fast as possible_

He didn't know why he was so sure things were going to go badly when he and Cartman came out together. He just knew that once they let it slip they were going to need to give everyone some space. Thinking about it, he figured a road trip or something would be nice, just the two of them, while their friends and family reevaluated their entire lives back home. He liked that idea and noted it on the bottom of the paper.

His phone, which was sitting on the foot of his bed, beeped a few times. It was Cartman, of course.

_'can u come over?'_

_'No, my mom wanted me to stay here for the night. Plus, I've got to shower and work on my summer reading and stuff,”_ Kyle replied.

_'I could come over there?'_

_'I don't think thats a good idea. Not when they're home.'_

Cartman sent a frowning emoji. _'u just want me for my body'_

Kyle snorted. _'That's not true and we both know it'_

_'idk if that s a compliment but im taking it as one'_

_'It was. I like you as a person too, moron.'_

_'awwww im touched'_ It was only a few seconds before Cartman texted again. _'im also horny af dude'_

Kyle thought of Cartman hovering over top of him, grinding his hard length against his thigh and he found himself biting his lip a little too hard.

_'Oh yeah?”_

_'yeah'_ Cartman texted. _'wanna watch me jack off?'_

That turned Kyle on tremendously, he realized. A lot of porn he liked was solo guys masturbating and he never really considered that someone would do it for him, specifically.

 _'kinda'_ he said.

A few minutes passed until Cartman's next message, which was, of course, a video file. Kyle plugged his headphones in and, just to be safe, locked his bedroom door.

Sitting back down on the bed, he, almost nervously, pressed play.

Cartman was laying down on his bed, shirtless, as Kyle could tell from what he could see. The camera was angled downward, only showing the bottom of his stomach and his hard cock which he was stroking, slowly. With his headphones on, Kyle could hear his heavy breathing and the smallest of whimpers every now and then. “You like that?” Cartman asked in the video and Kyle's heart jumped when he realized that it was meant for him.

“Yes,” Kyle squeaked, involuntarily, to himself.

The video was short and it seemed like Cartman was just teasing himself at first and Kyle hoped he was planning on sending more because that had really gotten him hard.

 _'that's so hot cartman'_ Kyle sent back, not giving a damn about capitalization or punctuation because he was too busy palming his erection through his pants.

 _'thanks ;3'_ Cartman answered. _'hard yet?'_

_'yeah'_

_'show me'_

Kyle unbuttoned his pants and debated on whether or not to send a picture of the bulge against his briefs or the whole deal. He figured, since Cartman was doing most of the work here, the least he could do was show him his dick.

He pulled his underwear down, just enough to slip out of, and gripped the base of his shaft, taking a picture with his free hand.

Cartman replied almost immediately. _'oh fuck'_ and then _'I could cum to that'_

_'I wanna see'_

_'kyle you dirty dirty girl'_ Cartman said but then, after two or three minutes sent another video.

Kyle actively stroked himself while watching this time. This video was much louder and he was glad he had his headphones on.

Cartman stroked himself faster and more urgently and had slicked his hand with some kind of lotion or lube. He bucked upwards into his hand, matching his own pace, groaning deeply and huskily from behind the camera. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he panted as he started to bring himself over the edge. “K _yle,_ Kyle, Kyle, oh my _god!_ Oh my _fucking god!_ Shit!” he came, shooting a huge load of cum in thick spurts onto his stomach and chest, moaning Kyle's name the whole time. After he had caught his breath, Cartman turned his phone camera around to his face. He smiled, looking sleepy and content. “Okay, now go get yourself off, you filthy animal,” he said and the video ended.

Kyle was already very, very close so he played the video over one more time and came all over himself, breathing Cartman's name at the same time he was moaning his.

He took one last picture for Cartman of the dribbling of his softening cock and the streaks of cum that had splattered on his taut stomach. He especially featured the orange trail of hair which lead from his pubes to his bellybutton as Cartman had expressed extreme delight upon the discovery that Kyle, indeed, had a fire crotch.

 _'god damn kyle'_ Cartman replied.

_'you looked tired, Cartman. Go to bed?'_

_'ok night jew'_

_'goodnight cartman'_

Just as Kyle went to set his phone down his night stand it buzzed once more, one last message from Cartman: a heart.

It was something so simple but, as he was trying to fall asleep, Kyle couldn't stop smiling.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Kyle hated waking up alone. He had never minded it before but, after finding out how nice it felt to wake up with Cartman's arms wrapped, protectively, around him, he found his empty bed to be a little lackluster. However, as much as he liked Cartman now, it never ceased to infuriate him when he let himself into his room through the window.

“Hey, Jew,” Cartman said, waking Kyle from his sleep. “What's shakin'?”

After a string of profanities, Kyle was finally awake and coherent. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Cartman shrugged. “I _did_ text you before I came over.”

Kyle glanced at his phone where a single _'im coming over'_ message sat, unopened, on his lock screen. “That isn't how you ask to come over, Cartman,” Kyle hissed.

“Well,” Cartman said, sitting down on the bed, causing it to creak loudly, “I don't usually ask people if I can come over.”

“Obviously not,” Kyle grumbled, sitting up. “Are my parents here? What time is it?” He yawned and reached for his phone again. “Oh jeez, it's late.”

“Yeah, it's like noon which is why I needed to come over immediately,” said Cartman.

“My parents aren't here, then. I'm honestly so happy my mom took that secretary job with my dad because it's really nice having the house empty during the day,” said Kyle. “Wait, is Ike here?”

“Yeah. He's out back. He saw me climbing up here but he really didn't give a shit,” said Cartman. “That kid's weird as fuck.”

Kyle laid back down and snuggled up to his pillow. “I'm exhausted. Why am I so tired?”

Cartman frowned. “Maybe you should eat, dumbass.”

Kyle rolled over to look at him. “Is that all you think about?”

“No, I think about lots of things but I'm not gonna forget about eating, that's for sure.” He paused. “Mostly, I just think about you, you stupid Jew.”

“Gaaaay,” Kyle mumbled into his comforter.

“Kyle,” Cartman huffed, “get _up!”_ When Kyle ignored him in favor of making stubborn noises into his pillow, Cartman resorted to rummaging through his nightstand to get his attention.

“Cartman,” Kyle whined, rolling over, “get out of my stuff!”

“Oh HO!” Cartman laughed, pulling something from the drawer. “What do we have here!?”

Kyle sat up immediately. _“Cart_ man put that _back!!”_ he shrieked.

“Kyle has a dildo! Kyle has a dildo!” Cartman sang, holding it just out of reach.

“It's not a _dildo,_ you uncultured swine!” Kyle growled. “It's a vibrator and it's a PERSONAL OBJECT that you had _better_ put back _right now!!”_

Cartman inspected it. It was light blue, translucent, and _definitely_ phallic shaped. He flipped it on and off a few times, curiously. “You really use this?”

Kyle blushed profusely and wished he could just dissolve into the sheets of his bed right then and there. “Sometimes...”

“It's big,” Cartman remarked.

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. Cartman sounded legitimately interested. “Yeah, well, I've been practicing.”

“Why am I just now finding out about this, Kyle?” asked Cartman.

“Because it's personal!” Kyle yelped. “My experience with sex toys doesn't just come up in casual conversation, Cartman!”

“Toy _s?”_

“Shut up, this is the only one.”

“So, you're a bottom, then?” Cartman asked, still turning the toy over in his hands, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“I don't know. Maybe?” Kyle said, still blushing, rubbing his arm, sheepishly.

“I see,” Cartman said, quietly. He put the vibrator back in the drawer and closed it before laying down on his stomach, watching Kyle, intently. “Let's do something.”

Kyle rubbed his eyes. “Okay, but I have to take a shower first.”

“'Kay. I'll wait,” said Cartman, rolling over on the bed.

Kyle got up, stretching. On his way to the door, he slid his pajama pants off, knowing fully well that Cartman's eyes were fixed on his ass.

When he returned from the shower, a few minutes later, in a clean pair of yellow boxer briefs, toweling his hair, Cartman looked up from his phone.

“Damn,” he said.

Kyle turned pink. “Didn't anyone ever tell you not to stare?”

“Yes,” said Cartman, “but I don't listen to what anybody tells me to do.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed, next to Cartman, who had laid down on his back and was staring at the ceiling, counting the glow in the dark stars that had been there for years. Kyle was quiet.

“I think,” Kyle blurted out, suddenly, “we should have sex.”

Cartman jerked his head up. “Wait! Shit, like, right _now?_ ”

“No,” said Kyle. “But... I mean... I'm going to be away at college and-”

“Isn't that what college is for? Losing your virginity?”

“Well, maybe I don't _want_ to lose it there,” Kyle said, indignantly. “Maybe I want _you_ to be my first, stupid.”

Cartman lost the ability to speak for a moment. “Are you serious? Me? Why?” he asked, incredulously.

“Because I... I fucking care about you and shit, dude... I don't want to lose my virginity to some random person at college that I've only known for two weeks or something. I want it to be special... or whatever...”

“Okay,” said Cartman. “I'm definitely down for that.”

Kyle let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Cartman smirked. “I can't believe you want me to bone you so bad.”

“Shut up, Cartman,” Kyle said, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. He stood up, intending to get clothes from his dresser but Cartman was suddenly behind him, turning him around and kissing him.

Cartman cupped Kyle's chin in his hand and touched his lips, gently, with his thumb. “You come in here wet, in this tight, little pair of underwear, tell me you want me to be your first, and then expect me not to want to fuck you right now?” he said, his voice sounding a little gruff. “I've been hard since you came back from the bathroom.”

Kyle let out a breath that sounded almost like a whimper. “D-do you really want to do this right now? I mean, Ike's here...”

“I don't give a fuck if he's here or not. I need you right now.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Kyle whispered against his lips.

Cartman squeezed Kyle's ass with both of his large hands. “Damn, Jew, your ass is fucking perfect.”

After a few more wet, needy kisses, Kyle made his way to the bed. “Since I'm already wearing the bare minimum, here, and you're fully clothed, that's not very fair.”

“Yes, well, that is because you look awesome naked and I, if you hadn't noticed, do not,” said Cartman, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, bull _shit,_ Cartman!” said Kyle, sitting up on his knees.

Cartman frowned, studying Kyle's bare skin, intently. “Maybe you should just put your clothes back on, Jew...”

“What?”

“Look,” said Cartman, gripping Kyle's shoulders with both hands, “what are you doing? With _me._ You could do so much better than... than this.” He gestured to himself. He sighed. “You deserve somebody better.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Cartman,” Kyle said, sharply. “Could I go out and fuck somebody else? Probably. Do I want to? No. Do you know why?”

Cartman looked away, towards the ground, so Kyle put his hands on either side of his face and sat on the bed, in front of him, looking him in the eyes. “Because I want _you._ I think you're funny and easy to talk to and I have fun with you. You make me feel things that other people don't, okay? Just because you don't have washboard abs, doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you, stupid. I think you're sexy as fuck, you fucking asshole.” He huffed in frustration. He liked to give speeches but admitting his feelings like that never ceased to make him flushed.

“Hmm,” said Cartman, narrowing his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” Kyle breathed.

Quickly, Cartman shrugged out of his shirt and cracked his knuckles loudly. “Then let's get this show on the road.” He grinned.

“Thank God,” Kyle sighed, kissing him, leaving peppered kisses along his jawline. “How do you want to do this?”

“I _did_ kind of have an idea on how you can get yourself ready,” Cartman said with a smirk that gave Kyle chills.

“Oh, Jesus, what's with that look?”

Cartman leaned over and opened Kyle's nightstand drawer again, finding the vibrator from before. “Fuck yourself with this for me?”

Kyle's cheeks lit up with a light blush but he nodded and took the toy in his hands. “There's lube in there too, gimme it.”

Cartman rummaged around until he found the bottle of K-Y and handed it to him.

He slipped out of his underwear, feeling a little on the spot with Cartman's hungry eyes on his naked body. He drizzled a little of the gel on to the tip of the vibrator and smeared it down the sides in a stroking motion, making sure to lock his gaze with Cartman's as he did so.

With a sharp breath in and a tiny moan, he slid it inside of himself as he kneeled on his hands and knees. It went in easily, since he was rather familiar with it, but he played it up a little bit since it was obviously having an effect on Cartman.

“Turn it on,” Cartman said, licking his lips.

Kyle flipped the little switch at the base and it came alive with a buzz and sent a wave of pleasure through him. His arms buckled and he fell onto his chest, still on his knees, groaning into his mattress. He turned his head to the side to see Cartman not-so-discreetly rubbing himself through his pants. “Enjoying the view?” he asked, knees trembling.

“Quite possibly more than a little bit.”

“You can touch me, you know.”

Cartman bit his lip and rubbed Kyle's ass tenderly before taking the vibrator from him and laying it on the bed. Kyle looked back at him, bewildered.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna spank you,” Cartman said in a husky voice, “and you're gonna love it.”

He expected Kyle to protest but he just watched him, silently, with piercing, emerald eyes and winced when a palm collided sharply with his skin, not too hard, but enough to leave a mark.

Cartman gazed at him, expectantly, waiting for confirmation before striking again.

“Again,” Kyle breathed against the sheets.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“Hit me again,” Kyle growled, glancing back with dilated pupils.

Cartman grinned, ferociously, giving him another stinging smack. “You fucking masochist, you.” After another, he bent down and kissed the red hand prints forming on his skin, admiring his handiwork. “Fuckin' beautiful.”

“Mmm,” Kyle whined into his mattress as Cartman used one hand to toy with his balls and slid a finger of the other into his still slick entrance.

“You like that?”

“Yeah, but- ah! B-but you should fuck me before I fucking lose it.”

Cartman exhaled noisily and slipped out of his pants, which were already halfway off, and out of his boxers until he was just as bare as the other. Kyle tossed him the bottle of lube.

“Be generous with it,” he mumbled, trembling with arousal. “You're a lot thicker than I'm used to.”

“Damn straight, I am,” Cartman muttered, stroking his already weeping cock, coating it with wetness. He teased himself against him, drooling precum along the cleft of Kyle's ass. “You want me inside you, Jew?”

“Ugh, yes,” said Kyle.

Cartman lined himself up with Kyle's hole and, holding his hips to keep steady, pushed himself, slowly, all the way in, to the hilt, with a low groan. Kyle's knees almost gave out underneath him as he let out a small cry.

“Holy shit,” Cartman panted, pulling out slowly and thrusting hastily back inside, “You feel... amazing... Just like I fucking thought you'd feel.”

“Hah,” Kyle gasped as Cartman fell into an even pace. “You've thought about this before then?”

“The thought of this has been all I've jerked off to for like the last five years, Jew,” Cartman said, thickly. “Just let me have this moment.”

Kyle whimpered and softly pleaded for more which Cartman happily obliged, pounding into him with deeper, faster thrusts. He was on his hands and knees now, crouched over him like a bitch in heat, humid breath against the nape of Kyle's neck.

“Oh fuck!” Kyle cried out as Cartman's cock found an excruciatingly sensitive area inside him, _“Eric!”_

“Oh god, yes! Fuck, Kyle, say my name,” Cartman groaned, nearly choking on his words, reaching around to stroke him off at the same pace as his thrusts, which were quickly becoming frantic.

Kyle's breath was erratic, letting out a loud cry or a gasping _“Eric!”_ each time their hips met with the vulgar slapping of skin against skin.

“I'm gonna cum,” Cartman whispered against Kyle's ear. “I'm sorry, you feel so good.”

“Nnnh, it's okay, m-me too,” Kyle murmured, rolling his hips. “Fuck me, Eric, I lo- ah!!” He cut himself off with a moan as he came, suddenly, grinding his hips into the sheets. Feeling Kyle's climax, Cartman came almost immediately afterwards, tensing and spilling inside of him.

As Cartman pulled out, Kyle felt the warmth seeping out of him and realized, as he rolled over onto his back, that sex was a lot messier than he imagined it to be. Cartman lay on top of him, propping himself up on his elbow as to avoid putting the bulk of his weight on Kyle beneath him, and kissed him lazily.

“Was it good for you too?” Cartman asked with a wry grin. “Did I exceed your expectations?”

“Yes,” said Kyle. He sat up a little and took note, with distaste, that they had made an absolute mess of his sheets. “But I hope Ike didn't hear any of that.”

“Oh, Kyle, with the way you were screaming, the whole neighborhood probably knows you like it up the butt,” Cartman teased.

Kyle pushed him off of himself and sat up completely. “I need to clean up. Change the sheets while I'm gone.”

Cartman made an insulted noise. “I give you the best dick of your life and this is how you thank me?”

“Oh, please,” Kyle said, using tissues from his nightstand to wipe himself off a little before he stood up. “I let you cum inside my asshole. The least you can do is change the bed sheet.” He wadded up a sheet from the nearby laundry basket and tossed it at him as he wrapped his towel from his shower around himself and headed to the bathroom.

When he got back, he was surprised that Cartman had _actually_ done what he asked and changed the sheets.

“Ta-dah,” said Cartman, who was sitting on the clean bed, putting his pants back on. “You're welcome.”

Kyle, who had changed into fresh clothes in the bathroom as well, put his hands on his hips. “Thank you. I'm impressed.”

“Well, like I said, it was the least I could do,” Cartman said, shrugging.

“You didn't say that, I did,” said Kyle. He planted a kiss on Cartman's forehead.

Cartman wrapped his arms around Kyle's waist and pulled him on top of him, nuzzling into his shoulder. “You called me Eric,” he said, softly.

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “Do you... want me to call you that?”

“Maybe. But not always; that'd be weird. But sometimes, I think it would be nice,” Cartman said.

“Okay, Eric,” Kyle said and smiled as Cartman tried to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of my beautiful son, Eric Cartman's birthday, here's the chapter where he finally gets laid. Rest in peace, Kyle's ass. 
> 
> Also!! Thank you for all the great feedback I've gotten on this fic so far!! I love you all so much!!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short chapter!! this has been sitting on my desktop for a few days and i didn't quite have the motivation to work on it more so i'm just giving it to you now!!

It was raining. Inside, on the couch, Kyle and Cartman had finally decided on a movie to watch but neither of them was really paying attention to it. It was a lazy Saturday and Cartman was almost dozing, leaning on his elbow on the arm of the couch while Kyle's head was in his lap.

Kyle felt sick and he knew exactly why. His stomach churned and he watched a bug crawl across the ceiling instead of the weird Netflix documentary playing in the background. It had been a few days since he first felt the strange feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach and clawing at his chest and, at first, he wasn't sure what it was. But now he knew exactly what it was and he knew he had to say something but he wasn't sure how.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the stillness surrounding them.

“What?” asked Cartman, still watching the television, blankly.

Kyle swallowed. “I think I'm in love with you.”

Cartman's expression wavered a little. “Hah!” he laughed, suddenly. “Gaaaaay!” He glanced down, almost smirking, moving his hand from the back of the couch, to slip it under Kyle's arms which were folded over his chest. “But, I mean, I- uh- I love you too and... stuff.”

“Gross,” said Kyle, looking back to the documentary, but he was glowing and he could tell Cartman was too. They sat in silence for a while.

“Well, this has been a nice talk,” Cartman said, yawning.

Kyle rolled over and looked up at him. “This movie is so boring. Why are we watching this?”

Cartman shrugged. “I dunno, it kills my boner.”

Kyle snorted and poked him in the stomach. “Okay, then, you gigantic dork.”

Cartman reached up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “This is so weird.”

“What is?”

“Love and shit. Like honestly. What the fuck?” he said. “How the hell did we end up here?”

“It is pretty surreal,” said Kyle. “You know, we should tell the guys at some point.”

“At some point,” Cartman repeated. “Kenny'll be excited. Stan'll shit himself.”

Kyle frowned. “What if he's mad?”

Cartman scoffed. “Why would he be mad?”

“I don't know. That I didn't tell him.”

“And that it's me?” Cartman added.

“Maybe. He kept telling me that you weren't that bad though, so, really, this is all his fault,” said Kyle. He exhaled loudly through his nose. “I don't know, I keep worrying he'll be disappointed that I'm gay or something. Is that a valid feeling? He's like the only one of us who turned out to be straight.”

“Fuckin' hetero son of a bitch,” Cartman said, shaking his head. “But, if he ends up being a homophobic dickbag, I'll fucking kill him.”

“I doubt he's homophobic so don't kill him. He's still my best friend, dude. I just don't know what he'll say. Maybe I should tell him I'm gay before I tell him about me and you.”

“Or, we could just not tell him.” Cartman shrugged. “We'll tell him we're just guys bein' dudes.”

“I don't know, I hate lying...”

“Even lying by omission?”

“That's the worst kind.”

“That's the _best_ kind because it's not even a sin or anything.”

Kyle snorted. “Since when do you care about sinning?”

Cartman pretended to gasp. “Why, _Kyle,_ this is _hell_ we're talking about.”

Kyle sat up and cracked his back. He reached over to his phone which sat on the table beside the couch. “And speak of the devil.”

Cartman raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Stan wants to hang out tomorrow. He's bringing Kenny. We're gonna have one big, fun day, apparently,” Kyle said with a nervous grimace.

Cartman brought his palm to his face. “Oh, Jesus.”

“It'll be fun,” Kyle said. “Just like old times.”

“Yeah,” scoffed Cartman, “except now I've gotta have a filter so I don't start talking about your sweet ass to our childhood friends. Great. Fantastic.”

“Believe me, I'm just as worried about that as you are,” said Kyle. “But we can do it. We can pretend to be straight for one afternoon, right? We did it for years.”

Cartman groaned, dramatically. “But I don't wannaaaaaaa!” he complained, kicking his feet like a child.

“Then what do you suggest we do?” Kyle huffed, leaning back against the armrest, tucking his knees up to his chest.

Cartman shrugged. “Leave the country?”

“Eh, let's wait until I tell my parents before we take it to those extremes,” said Kyle, mouth turning up into a tight frown. He put his head between his knees. “What are we gonna do, Eric?”

Cartman got goosebumps when Kyle said his name. He always did. He couldn't explain it but it made him feel like more of a person. It made him feel like things were different. Which, obviously, they were. “Just wing it, I guess.”

Kyle looked up. “I suppose that works. Whatever happens, we can handle it. Right?”

Cartman nodded. “Absolutely.”

Kyle pursed his lips. “Okay. I trust you.”

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

 


	13. Chapter 13

They met at a little diner across town at eight in the morning on Sunday for breakfast. Stan and Kenny had apparently gotten there a little earlier and had already ordered when Kyle and Cartman arrived. When the little bell above the door let out a tinny ring, Kenny looked up from his mound of waffles and waved, enthusiastically.

Kyle took the seat across from Stan at the diner booth and Cartman scooted in next to him. “Hey, guys,” said Kyle, smiling genuinely.

“Poor Kid. Marsh,” Cartman grunted, crossing his arms over the table.

“Sorry we ordered without you,” Stan said with a sheepish grin. “We got in town earlier than I thought we would.”

“That's fine,” Kyle said, picking up the only menu left on the table and leafing through it. “What time did you guys leave?”

“I left Denver at like four and picked Stan up around six so we had an early start,” Kenny chimed, wiping syrup from his chin.

Cartman swiped the menu from Kyle. “I need pancakes immediately.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Of _course_ you do.”

“So,” said Stan, spearing a sausage link on his fork, “how's South Park been?”

Kyle froze briefly and very nearly lost his appetite. “Same as always,” he managed.

“How was your birthday?” Kenny asked Cartman.

Cartman shrugged. “It was alright. Jew did a good job. He wouldn't let me wear a crown though.”

Kyle scoffed. “You didn't even ask if you could have worn a crown!”

“It was implied,” Cartman said, flipping his hair, “and you lost.”

The waitress came and took their orders and Stan got right to work telling Kyle about the friends he met at camp, which was apparently all a set up to tell him about a girl.

“Her name is Madison and she's super cool and I think you two would really get along. She's really pretty too and I've told her all about you and she wants to meet you! Want me to give her your number?” Stan gushed excitedly, wagging his dark eyebrows at the slightly horrified Kyle.

“Oh!” said Kyle. “Um... N-no thanks. She sounds cool and all but I'm kind of... Into somebody else right now...”

Stan looked surprised. “Whoa, really, dude? That's awesome! Are you guys, like, official?”

Kyle sucked in a sharp breath. “No,” he wheezed, “Kind of but not really? I'm, uh, not really sure, to be totally honest.” He glanced at Cartman out of the corner of his eye which he hoped no one noticed.

Cartman's eyes glistened curiously and a smile played on his lips as he watched Kyle get increasingly more uncomfortable as Stan went on.

“What's her name? What's she like?” asked Stan.

Kyle winced at the notion that Stan expected him to like girls. “Her name?”

“Yeah,” Stan said, slowly, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. “She _does_ have a name, doesn't she?”

“Of course she has a name,” Kyle muttered. “Her name is, uh, Shelia.”

“Dude,” Kenny said through a mouthful of food, “that's your mom's name too!”

“Yeah,” Cartman said, raising his eyebrows, knowingly, at Kyle. “Isn't that _such_ a weird coincidence? Imagine, when you're fucking her, yelling out your own mom's name. I bet you're a screamer, aren't you, Kyle.” He smiled, obnoxiously.

Kyle, face sufficiently reddened, opened his mouth for a comeback when Stan interrupted.

“Dude, leave Kyle alone.”

Kyle hid a smile and elbowed Cartman in the side, lightly. “Yeah, leave me alone, Cartman.”

“Anyhow,” said Stan, “I'm stoked you found a girl, Kyle! What's she like? Show me a picture of her!”

Kyle paled and fumbled with his words all over again. “Uh. Um. I can't show you a picture of her.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because she's a guy,” Kyle uttered, suddenly. He wanted to die.

“Oh?” said Stan, then a look of realization crossed over his face. “OH!”

“Yeah,” Kyle rasped, looking down at the empty space on the table.

Cartman broke the silence with an astonished “Whaaaaat!? Kyle's GAY!? I, for one, am _shocked!_ ”

Ignoring Cartman's loud proclamation, Stan continued to question Kyle. “So how long have you...?”

“Oh, a while,” said Kyle, quietly. “Sorry I haven't told you... It's been a wild ride...”

“No, no, it's cool, man. So what about this guy? Where'd you meet him?” asked Stan.

“Internet,” Kyle blurted quickly.

“Have you met him in person?”

“Yes.”

“I've met him,” Cartman interjected, “and I can tell you, honestly, that he's really cool. Like, cooler than everyone at this table, excluding me, obviously.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “He's not that cool.”

“He's pretty cool,” Cartman assured.

“He actually kind of sucks,” said Kyle.

“So what's his name?” asked Kenny, suddenly speaking up as he finished his food.

“His name... Is, uh,” Kyle started to sweat, “it's um...”

“Dick,” Cartman butt in.

Stan cocked an eyebrow. “His name is Dick?”

“Yes,” Kyle said, warily.

“Haha,” said Kenny. “Dick.”

Stan narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. “Are you _really_ dating a guy named Dick?”

“I... uh...” Kyle looked down, “No.”

“Whaaaaaat!?” cried Cartman. “You're noooot? This is totally a surprise to me!!!”

Kyle hid his face in his hands and exhaled deeply. “I can't lie to them like this, Eric,” Kyle said, softly.

“Did you just say 'Eric?'” asked Stan, thoroughly confused.

Kenny got the biggest, shit-eating grin on his face. “No fucking way.”

Cartman huffed and rolled his eyes. “Lying is easy and here's an example: Kyle totally _doesn't_ have a thing for me.”

Kyle scrunched up his nose. “Oh _please._ Don't act like it's one sided, Cartman.”

Stan began to look horrified. “Wait... Are.... Are you...?”

Cartman cupped his hands like a megaphone over his mouth and leaned across the table. “WE LOOK AT EACH OTHER NAKED, STAN!” he shouted.

“We do NOT!” cried Kyle, looking around anxiously at the diner's other patrons who were glancing towards the commotion.

“Well, this is news to me!” said Cartman, leaning on his elbow.

“I mean,” Kyle fumbled, “we don't just get naked and stare at each other.”

“So, you guys have...?” Stan asked, looking a little green.

“WE MAKE THE PENISES KISS, STAN!” Cartman yelled across the table with his megaphone hands.

“WE DO NOT!” Kyle shouted.

Cartman waved his hand, nonchalantly. “Maybe not on purpose but, like, indirectly.”

“Indirectly,” Kyle repeated, flatly.

“Yeah.”

“Are you guys really...?” Stan asked again.

Kyle shrugged, sheepishly. “Yeah, kind of,” he admitted.

“DOES IT MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, STAN?” Cartman boomed through his cupped hands.

“Oh my god, _stop,_ ” said Kyle. “Leave Stan alone.”

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” Stan said, resting is forehead against the table, looking down at the ground, between his legs.

Kenny spoke up. “This is the best day of my life. I fucking called it.”

“Shut the fuck up; you didn't call anything, Kenny,” Cartman said, pointing at him, threateningly from across the table.

“I fucking did!” Kenny cried, throwing his hands up in the air and then directing a finger right back at Cartman. “Tenth grade, motherfucker!”

Cartman tossed his head back, exasperatedly. “I wasn't hittin' it in tenth grade!!”

Kyle looked offended. _“Excuse me?”_

“So you're hittin' it now??” Kenny asked with a toothy, suggestive grin.

“Duh,” Cartman said, leaning back in his seat. “But we're like boyfriends or something.”

Kyle tugged on his sleeve a little bit. “We didn't actually talk about that, yet.”

“Well, then let's fucking talk about it right now.”

“Not now!!”

“Yeah,” said Kenny, “I think Stan died.”

“I can't believe it,” Stan mumbled, still not looking up, mostly slumped under the table. “I can't fucking believe it.”

Kenny elbowed him. “Hey, man, don't act like you didn't see this coming.”

“Yeah, get with it, Stan,” said Cartman.

“Honestly, though,” added Kyle.

Stan was quiet for a while longer before peeking his head up. “Why?”

Kyle raised a leery eyebrow. “Why what?”

“Why are you dating _Cartman?”_

It's not that Cartman didn't expect Stan to feel this way. He was prepared for Stan to freak out. He really was. But, still, his words nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“Like, Kyle, do you _trust_ him?” Stan continued, making things even worse.

Kyle's mouth fell open. “You're kidding me, right? Of course I trust him!” He instinctively gripped at the fabric of Cartman's shirt, under the table. “You're the one who told me to start hanging out with him in the first place and now you're pulling this crap?”

“But Kyle, you deser-”

“Don't you fucking dare,” Kyle growled. “If you finish that sentence, I swear to god I'll kick your ass, Stanley.”

“Dude, could you have dropped a bigger bomb on us today?” Stan said, anger rising in his voice.

“I wouldn't compare it to dropping a bomb on you,” said Kyle. “Why are you so pissed? It's not like this affects you at all in any way.”

“I just don't want you to get hurt.”

Kyle let out an incredulous laugh. “And you'll think he'll hurt me!?”

“I mean, it's fucking Cartman!”

Cartman stood up, quickly, finding his breath again. “Well, Stanley,” he said, coldly, “not that this hasn't been a nice little brunch and all but, uh, you're an asshole and you can go fuck yourself. Ciao!” He stormed out of the restaurant, slamming the door so hard on exit that the glass cracked a little.

“Dude,” Kenny said, “You were pretty mean to him, Stan.”

“ _I_ was pretty mean!?” Stan cried.

Kenny gave a sympathetic glance to Kyle who bit his lip and looked down at the table. “You okay?”

“I'm gonna let him cool off,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, he's going through some shit.”

“How much did he tell you?” Kyle asked, looking up.

Kenny shrugged. “Enough.”

Kyle didn't like that he felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest so he pushed that aside. He slammed a few crumpled bills down on the table to pay for his and Cartman's food. “I'm gonna go.”

“Mind if I come with you?” Kenny asked.

“Sure, we can hang out or something.” He shot a glance to Stan who was drilling holes into the table with his eyes. “It was nice to see you, Stan. Text me when you chill the fuck out, okay?”

Stan didn't answer.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said on Tumblr that this would be the last chapter but I'm gonna squeeze one more chapter out of this fic since the end bit didn't really fit here like I wanted it to. Are you excited? I'm excited.

Kenny and Kyle sat on the rooftop of a vacant house on the outskirts of town. They had been talking about life and work and the past and the future as the midday sun beat down on them. It was nice. Kenny had a way of spilling secrets from people through silence and Kyle found himself divulging the entire summer's story to him. Kenny nodded sagely, sucking on the dribbling, orange popsicle he had bought for fifty cents from the ice cream truck.

Kyle confessed everything, coming clean with every single hope and dream and ideal that was on his chest, mostly about Cartman. Still, Kenny only nodded, waiting until Kyle had wrapped up his narration before asking a question.

“Do you love him?”

Kyle frowned tightly, and peered into the sun, squinting. “Yes.”

“Good,” said Kenny. “He needs somebody. Not saying you have to, like, fix him or anything, but you know what I mean?”

Kyle felt a pang of guilt resonate through his chest. “I should go find him, huh?”

“Want me to come with you and look for him?”

“You don't have to. I know where he'll be.”

Half an hour later, Kyle found himself on Cartman's doorstep. It wasn't much of a gamble on whether or not he'd be there. His truck was in the driveway so Kyle figured that's where he was.

He let himself in and silently slipped up the stairs.

The bedroom was very nearly empty, walls bare, and Cartman was throwing things, haphazardly, into cardboard boxes. Kyle leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms.

“What are you doing?”

Cartman flinched a little but didn't look up. “Packing because I'm technically homeless,” he sang.

“Right,” said Kyle. “So what are you planning to do with all of this?”

Cartman shrugged. “I guess I'll rent a storage unit to put all my shit in. Do you think they'd let me live in it too?”

“You can't live in a storage unit.”

“I could. You don't know that.”

“You're not going to live in a storage unit.”

Cartman turned around and leaned against his bedpost. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, because you're going to live with me,” Kyle said, cheeks flushing dangerously.

Cartman raised his eyebrows. “W-what?”

“Come to Pittsburgh with me.”

“You're kidding, right?”

Kyle crossed his arms tighter and squared his stance, confidently. “No. I've got a lease on an apartment three blocks from campus and I needed a roommate anyhow so, like, come with me.”

“That's like... A thing people do when they're dating or something,” Cartman said with a gulp.

“Maybe it is,” Kyle said and it sounded like a challenge.

“So, what?” said Cartman, “Do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

Kyle had been anticipating this question and, had even planned on asking it, himself, but, when faced with it directly, his heart jumped into his throat and he let out a squeak instead of an answer.

Cartman looked amused. “What was that?”

“It was a yes, smartass,” Kyle said, indignantly.

“Nice,” Cartman breathed and Kyle let out a snort.

“Nice? That's all you've got to say about it?”

“Well, I could say lots of things but I'd rather let my actions speak for me,” Cartman said with a smirk, suddenly grabbing Kyle around the waist in a tight bear hug and suplexing him onto the bed.

Landing under him, Kyle quickly wrapped his legs around him, crossing them at the ankles, and cupped his face in his hands. “This is stupid. We're stupid.”

“You think so?” Cartman asked, propping himself up on his forearms, cocking an eyebrow.

Kyle nodded. “Yes. What kind of idiots put themselves through this kind of thing?”

“Super cool asshole teenagers with a masochistic streak,” said Cartman.

“Very funny, but listen.”

Cartman made a very serious face and pressed his forehead against Kyle's. “Listening.”

“I have to tell my parents about me and about... us.”

“Weak. Why?”

“Because I feel like I'm lying to them, otherwise,” Kyle sighed.

“Yeah, and we learned this morning that you can't keep your mouth shut,” Cartman said, rolling his eyes.

“I just want to be honest with everyone,” said Kyle. “I don't wanna hide anything.”

Cartman breathed out against his neck. “That's more than anyone else has ever said about me.”

“So, I'm gonna just... just tell them. Straight up. No warning,” Kyle mumbled.

“You're gonna kill them.”

Kyle looked horrified. “Oh, Jesus, you think so?”

Cartman shook his head, his hair brushing against Kyle's cheek. “Nah, they'll be fine. Having a gay son never hurt anyone.”

Kyle nodded and swallowed, hard. “Okay. I think it'll be okay. I don't _think_ they'll disown me.”

“If they do, fuck 'em.”

“They're my _parents,_ Eric. I want them to still be a part of my life. And I'd like them not to totally disrespect me as a person.”

“I still dig it when you call me Eric,” Cartman said.

“I know, stupid,” Kyle said. He kissed him shortly, and poked him in the shoulder. “This has been such a weird summer.”

“It's been a great summer.”

Kyle grinned. “That's debatable.” He kissed him again and it never ceased to make his heart jump in his chest. Pushing him off, he sat up. “I'm gonna tell them.”

“Right now?” Cartman whined.

“Yeah, I've gotta do it while I've still got the courage to or I'm never gonna,” Kyle said, getting to his feet.

“Alright. I'll be here when you get that out of the way,” said Cartman, laying down on the bare bed, crossing his arms under his neck as Kyle left.

When he got home, Kyle opened the door, quietly, and let himself in. His parents were in the living room, his mother reading in her chair, his father working, diligently, on something at the computer desk. Ike was there also, headphones plugged into his phone, playing some game in the corner. When nobody seemed to notice when he entered, Kyle knocked lightly at the drywall with his knuckles.

“Hey,” he said.

Mrs. Broflovski wrinkled her nose. “What's the matter, Bubbie?” she asked. Kyle guessed he looked as nervous as he felt and his mother was an expert on picking up on those kind of things.

“Can I talk to you guys about something?” Kyle said, trying to project but his voice died as it left his throat.

“Of course, Kyle,” Sheila said, putting down the romance novella she was reading on the arm of the chair. “Right, Gerald,” she prompted.

Kyle's father stood and pushed in his chair, moving to the couch, instead. “Absolutely,” he said.

Ike glanced up, over his game, briefly, before deciding not to get involved.

“Okay,” Kyle said, slowly, mentally working through what he had to say and trying to decide what would be the best way to say it. He chose to start with the least personal bit and make his way into deeper water from there. “Well, it's kind of about the apartment near campus. I found a roommate.”

“That's great, Kyle,” said his father.

Sheila was a little more wary. “Is it someone from school?”

Kyle fumbled at that point. “Ah, um, well, it's not someone I _don't_ know.”

Sheila narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

Kyle paced a bit, hands shoved in his pockets. “Okay, uh, you see, I've kind of been seeing someone and, uh, they aren't going to college right away, um, or at all, maybe, but they... are... gonna... come with me, I think...” he wheezed. There was no going back now.

“Oh!” Sheila said, seeming a little happy but mostly shocked. “How long have you b-”

“A couple of weeks,” Kyle cut her off before she could start talking about what _she_ was like or how he met _her._ “And, uh, there's really no way for me to get around this so I'm just gonna come out and say that it's-” he hesitated “-a guy. I'm gay. I- I like men. I'm sorry, I don't know if you're gonna think less of me or disown me or what but I said it. It's done. Now you know.” He was rambling, still pacing the living room, chewing on the nail of one thumb, the other hand still balled into a fist in his pocket.

His parents looked a little more shocked but they weren't visibly angered or disgusted, which Kyle took as a good sign. They were also still quiet which Kyle took as a bad sign. So, he continued, figuring that, if they were upset with him already, he couldn't really make things much worse.

“So, I'm dating a guy. From South Park. Whom I've known for a very long time. Aaaand you've probably already figured out who it is. Because I've been hanging out with him like every day for the entire summer. It's Eric Cartman. Big surprise. But I'm happy. He's happy. Things are good. Things are great. You probably hate him. That's fine. I, clearly, don't hate him anymore. He's a lot better than he was as a kid. So am I. So is everyone. Obviously, I understand if you don't want me to be your son anymore and you want to adopt thirty more Canadian kids instead. That's fine. I still love you guys even if you hate me. I just love... Somebody else too, now. And that just happens to... be Eric Cartman. Wow. Okay. You guys can talk now or I can keep going or-”

“Kyle.”

“Yeah?”

“It's okay, Sweetie,” said his mother. “We still love you. It's a little surprising but your father and I have talked about this before, on the off chance that either you or your brother would end up being gay. You're still our son and we'll always love you.”

She spoke to him like she was coaxing a frightened animal and Kyle realized that was because he was acting like one. He relaxed his shoulders a bit and let out a sigh of relief. “Really?”

“Of course, son,” said Gerald.

“We can talk more, later, if you want,” said Sheila, “but go tell Eric to come over for dinner tonight like part of the family.”

Kyle grimaced a bit but nodded. “Okay. Okay.”

His parents hugged him and he hugged them and he felt a lot more at ease with himself.

However, things weren't quite settled yet.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Two houses down, Cartman sat on his bed eating melon balls on a stick from the bouquet of fruit resting on the nightstand.. Kyle stood, slightly confused, in the doorway.

“Where did you even get that?”

Cartman shrugged and tossed him the small, rectangular card that came with the edible arrangement. The writing was tiny and squished together and continued on the back.

_“My Dearest, Most Favoritest Eric Theodore Cartman,_

_Ya boi Stanley felt bad for being an asshole but he didn't want to call and apologize because he's also a huge weenie so I told him to buy this fruit bouquet from the flower shop and send it to you instead but he was just going to leave the card blank but I know you aren't the kind of guy to eat anonymous fruit so I'm filling it out for him. See ya in August, bruh. Have fun being gay with Kyle ;)_

_-Kenny”_

“Wow,” said Kyle, picking at the edges of the card, absently. “The florist works fast. Does this mean you and Stan are okay?”

“I mean, I'm not usually a fruit kind of guy but there were chocolate covered strawberries in this so, apology accepted,” said Cartman. “How'd things go at your place? Did your parents disown you?”

“No,” said Kyle, sitting down on the bed. “It went okay. They want you to come over for dinner.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

Cartman groaned. “I don't wanna.”

“You gotta.”

“But _Kyle,”_ he complained. “It'll be so awkward. I'll die.”

“Yeah, it'll be awkward and I don't wanna do it either but I mean, it has to be done,” Kyle said. “Do you want free food or not?”

Cartman sighed. “I guess so. But you owe me.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “Do I?”

Cartman nodded and poked him with a fruit skewer. “Yeah. It's like the boyfriend rule or something I just made up off the top of my head.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Okay,” he said slowly. “What do I owe you?”

“You'll find out someday,” Cartman said. “I can't believe I'm having dinner with your parents. That's so gay.”

“Well, I mean-”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Cartman. “You should call Stan and get your gay Feelings Jam out of the way, also.”

Kyle looked surprised. “What?”

“I dunno. You seemed pretty pissed at him but you wanna talk to him, I can tell,” said Cartman.

“That's really adult,” said Kyle. “I guess I should.”

“Yes, well, I am Eric Cartman: Licensed Adult. Plus, I know for a fact that Stan feels bad about what happened,” Cartman said. “These fruit things are like seventy-five dollars and no straight dude shells out seventy-five dollars for fruit cut into the shape of little flowers unless you feel pretty fucking shitty.”

Kyle exhaled noisily. “You're right,”

“Of course I'm right.”

“But,” said Kyle, “I don't have to call him right now, _immediately.”_

Cartman cocked an eyebrow. “I guess not. If you had something else in mind?”

Kyle fell back onto the blanketless bed, with a huff, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Maybe. I'm emotionally tired.”

“You're emotionally lame,” Cartman said, laying down on top of him.

“Oof,” Kyle said as Cartman's weight gravitated onto him. “Wait. Get off. You're crushing me to death.”

“I can't. My legs are broken.”

“They are _not,_ you're just an asshole,” Kyle mumbled, struggling weakly.

“Oops,” said Cartman, letting himself fall from his elbows, pressing down even more of his weight. “Now my arms are broken.”

“Why must you do this?” Kyle grunted in exasperation, nipping at Cartman's neck.

“Because I'm an asshole,” Cartman said, lifting himself up slightly to ghost his lips across Kyle's. “And because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kyle sighed, ceasing to struggle, underneath him.

“I see you have accepted your fate,” Cartman said as Kyle stilled. “But I'll get off of you for a million dollars.”

“I don't even get a boyfriend discount?”

“That _is_ with the boyfriend discount.”

“This is horrible. I'm going to die here,” Kyle sighed, biting his lip to keep from smiling.

“This is the life you chose for yourself, Kyle.”

“Hmm,” hummed Kyle against Cartman's neck. “I guess maybe I could get used to you being on top of me.”

Cartman growled. “Now you're being a horny bastard, you little fucker.”

“I know, and I shouldn't be because there's so many things I need to do,” Kyle sighed. “I have to call Stan and figure out what the fuck is going on for dinner and I haven't packed for college or even finished any of the summer reading or-”

Cartman cut him off with a long, lingering kiss. “Do all that later. Make out with me right now.”

Kyle grinned against his lips. The world could wait just a little bit longer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! That's it for this story!! Thanks so much to everyone for all the support and feedback, I couldn't have done it without you!! It feels a little surreal to be done with the work I've been writing for months now but I'm happy with it and I'm ready to move on to bigger and better things! I have TONS of Kyman fics planned and I'm actually going to start one as soon as I post this chapter so be on the look out and maybe subscribe to me or something if you want! 
> 
> ALSO!! I AM going to be writing a sequel to this fic in the future so this, technically, isn't the end of The Silent Summer! The Restless Winter will come eventually! It's kind of holiday-themed so I'll probably get to working on that around October or November? I'm not sure really. It depends on the progress of the fic I'm working on at the time!
> 
> Anyhow, like I said, tons of Kyman fics to come in the near future! I'm gonna be churning them out as fast as I can, really. I cannot get enough of this ship and it needs more content. All kinds of content! AUs, sadfic, cliche love stories!!! All of it!! I'm not really a oneshot writer so most of the stuff I write will be multi-chapter. 
> 
> Again, I really can't thank you enough for all the positivity I've gotten from this fic but it means so much to me and I really, really, really do appreciate every comment and kudos I get!! This story and my writing has been a big part of my life and I'm so glad I get to share it with you all! Sorry my notes on this fic are so long, too, I'm getting carried away! 
> 
> So, to summarize, keep commenting, keep reading, I hope my next fic gets the same kind of response as this one! Follow me on Tumblr at Libbywednesday! Thank you! I love you!! You're the greatest and the best!! 
> 
> -Libby


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